


Falling for You Was the Worst Thing I've Ever Done

by FrivolousPixie



Category: Pitch Perfect
Genre: ...buttsex, Bumper being a dick, Dicks in general, Flirting, M/M, Masturbation, Moderate Grinding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrivolousPixie/pseuds/FrivolousPixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a new year at Barden University. A new year means new teachers, a better attitude, and.. boyfriends? Donald Walsh wasn’t looking for a relationship. Nothing that wasn’t casual, because relationships only brought trouble. Or.. rather, it brought Treble. Bumper has other ideas, and what happens when a new Treblemaker enters the mix?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Donald sighed heavily, turning up the music that was bumping through the earbuds attached to his iPod. He wished he could be back in his room, laying on his bed, preferably napping without anyone bothering him. Luck, however, seemed not to be on his side. Ever.

 

"You know," Bumper started as he threw an arm around Donald's shoulders, effectively knocking his left earbud askew. "It's a new year. New Trebles, new friends, new start." He smirked, quirking a bushy eyebrow up a bit.

 

Raising his own eyebrows, Donald paused the song and stopped walking, turning to look at him. "New start for what, exactly?" He asked, not even bothering to try and hide the disinterest in his voice.

 

Bumper shrugged, smug smile still set on his pouty lips. "Whatever you want. New start for school.. friends.." He stepped a bit closer and reached up to tug the other earbud away, letting it drop down to swing back and forth between them. ".. _us_."

 

Donald scoffed and reached down to push his hand away, shaking his head. "I told you, I'm done. It ended last year, you're a dick, and like I said. I'm not looking for a relationship."

 

Reaching back up again, Bumper put a hand on the back of Donald's neck and gently stroked at the soft, black hairs there. "Yeah, _last_ year I was a dick. But not this time. I've changed, Don. You of all people should know that."

 

Shaking his head and pushing Bumper's hand away again, Donald turned the music back up, putting in the left earbud. "Actually, I shouldn't, because I really don't care." He shrugged and pursed his lips a little, patting Bumper's arm afterward. Turning around, Donald shuffled through his playlist, biting his lip as he did so.

 

Bumper huffed out a breath and zipped up his jacket a little more before he quickly walked after the taller boy. "Don, c'mon! Just give us a shot. Seriously, I'm not a dick anymore! I mean, I was never a dick before, but I swear I'm still not!"

 

Donald took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head as he clicked play. "Look, do you want me to be honest, or be nice?"

 

Slowing down his steps a little to get in line with Donald, Bumper blinked a few times before he hesitated. "Honest..?"

 

"I don't want to date you. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to make it any more obvoius. We fucked for a while, but that was it. We didn't date, we didn't hang out, nothing." Donald stopped again, at the edge of the sidewalk and he tilted his head to the side as he raised his eyebrows once more. "I'm tellin' you. I don't want anything to do with you, aside from being in the Trebles. Capice?"

 

Bumper flattened his lips into a tight line, rolling them a little against each other before he shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he nodded. "Totally. Got it." _Not_.

 

Just as Donald was ready to step off the sidewalk and cross over toward the little quad area, a shiny, grey car stopped in the street as students crossed from one area to another, carting suitcases and bags behind them and on their shoulders.

 

He could hear a voice floating from the inside in the backseat, singing loud enough for Donald to hear.

 

" _Lay your weary head to rest!"_ The boy in the backseat looked over, and he locked his eyes on Donald with a smile. Turning toward the window, he put his hands up, as if playing an air guitar. _"Don't you cry no more, no!"_

 

Donald quirked an eyebrow, a tiny smile resting on his lips as he paused his music. The boy was moving his fingers along like he was playing, humming and making little noises to go with it. Donald found it quite adorable, and he let himself smile a bit more.

 

Bumper furrowed his eyebrows, watching and listening to the boy in the back of the car. He wasn't worth Donald's attention. Certianly he wasn't. Bumper's voice was a hundred times better. He was way more attractive than whoever was in that car. He had his own car.. that boy was with his parents.

 

A soft laugh fell from Donald's lips as the car surged forward and the boy jolted back against the seat.

 

“What about that guy, huh?” Bumper scoffed, nudging at Donald's arm, who was still looking after the car as it drove away.

 

Smiling, Donald pursed his lips to try and keep it from going as wide as it wanted to. He cleared his throat and turned to look at Bumper a moment before he started across the road toward the grass on the other side. “What about him? That was adorable.”

 

Bumper's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he and scoffed, again, and then stuck his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. “Seriously? _That's_ the word you use to describe.. whatever _that_ was that he did? I mean.. adorable isn't the word I'd use. Embarrassing is more like it.”

 

“You're just pissed 'cause he had my attention and you didn't.”

 

Bumper frowned. “That's _not_ related at all to what we're talking about.”

 

Donald smirked and turned his music back up, lifting the other earbud and slipping it into his ear. Bumper tried pulling it out, but his hand was just smacked away. Eventually, he gave up and just resorted to walking beside him instead.

 

 

***

 

 

Jesse grumbled as he tried lugging his big suitcase up the staircase. Some asshole hadn't held the elevator for him, and he really didn't feel like waiting for another one. There weren't too many steps, but there were enough to leave him winded and panting a bit as he stopped at the top. He rested his hands on his knees, bent over a bit with his rear leaning against the wall. “Shit,” he puffed, standing up straight and grasping at the handle on his suitcase again. He pulled it behind him as he walked down the hallway. “334.. 334..” he mumbled, lookin g at the numbers that were printed on black squares, stuck to the doors.

 

He smiled as he caught sight of the number he was looking for, in the middle of the hallway. “334.” He reached for the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the white door open. He immediately set his duffle bag down on the empty bed, the object bouncing twice before it settled.

 

Pausing, his eyes traveled across the floor and then up toward the other person standing in the room. He was wearing a.. cape? Jesse couldn't see his face, as his back was turned, but when the other boy heard the door open, he turned around with a smile.

 

“There he is..” the boy said, all bushy eyebrows and slightly unruly hair. He was standing in front of a wall, decorated with loads of _Star Wars_ memorabilia, a banner hanging just behind his head that read _'May the force be with you'._ “I'm Benji. You must be Jesse.”

 

Reaching out a hand, Jesse smiled. “And you must be kidding,” he laughed, shaking the boy's hand. “Wow.”

 

Benji turned to follow him as Jesse made his way over to the other side of the small room, the shorter boy's eyes roaming over the dark colors and bright plastics of action figures and photos. “Looking at it now, I can see that it's a bit much,” Benji started, shifting a little where he stood from foot to foot. “I can take it down?” He suggested.

 

“No! No way, I mean.. It took a second for my eyes to adjust. But I can totally roll with this.”

 

Benji looked down for a moment, then back up to catch Jesse's eyes. “Look, just so you know, I'm not a total nerd.” He smiled a little. “I also happen to be super into close up _magic_.” He moved his hands out from underneath the robe/cape-hybrid and opened them up, producing a small, gerbil-like creature. It crawled around on his palms a bit, squeaking quietly.

 

Jesse eyed the animal, eyebrows raised a little in surprise. “Dude, that's awesome..” he said, voice showing only subtle discomfort. He pointed to the animal. “How long has that little dude been in there?”

 

Benji gently petted his hand over the brown and white gerbil, looking down at it with interest. “Several days.”

 

Slowly nodding his head, Jesse backed away from the boy and over to his own bed. “Right.. right yeah. So anyway,” he sucked in a light breath and held his hands out to his sides slightly. “How old are you? Where ya from? What's your major?”

 

Thinking for a moment, Benji sat down on the sat down on the end of his bed and his shoulders slumped a little. “Well.. I'm nineteen. From Washington DC.. Sociology major.. my favorite color is blue, I like to read, and I have an allergy to penacillin.”

 

Jesse's eyes widened and his hands paused on where they were going to unzip the duffle bag. “Okay. Cool.. cool..” He smiled. “Open book kind of guy.”

 

Benji paused, holding his hands up a moment. “Oh, I.. I thought we were like—like, that thing.. you know, tell me some facts about yourself, then it's my turn and I'll tell you facts about myself, become familiar roommates, get to know each other, friend kind of thing. Is that not what it was?”

 

“Sociology major, huh?”

 

Looking down, Benji nodded his head and pressed his lips into a line, thinking for a bit. “Hey, you wanna go down to the arts fair? I hear it's really cool. Lots of.. clubs and.. projects.. teams.”

 

Laughing, Jesse nodded his head and abandoned his bag on the bed. “Yeah, totally. What do you do, like, sign up for stuff?” He received a nod and he smiled brightly, showing off his pearly whites. “Sick. Yeah, let's head down.”

 

***

 

Down in the quad, there were at least thirty booths set up. The Korean Studen Association, booths for fraternities and sororities, things for sports, for music, you name it and it was there.

 

A large group of frat boys walked through the middle of the quad, through the booths, chanting out, “Taking names, taking over, join our righteous frat! If you ain't pledged a single thing then you ain't worth a crap!”

 

Benji looked after them, calling quietly, “That's a double negative..”

 

“That's a lotta negatives,” Jesse put in, not sparing the large group a glance.

 

“Follow me..” Benji murmured, eyes trained on something Jesse couldn't see. “There's only one group on this campus we're joining.”

 

Jesse followed him, crossing the short distance that had accumulated between him and Benji. “What are you talking about?” He murmured, mostly just to himself, and then he understood. In front of a half wall, said wall having a sign hanging on it with stairs next to it, stood a big group of boys. They were all average looking, nothing special, and the guy in the middle looked cocky and slightly familiar. But there was one boy that stood out to him.

 

Black hair, big, hipster looking glasses, plaid shirt, dark olive skin.. he was stunning. His body was lean, tall, a bit taller than Jesse's, but he wasn't nearly as muscular. He was thin; attractively thin, of course.

 

His eyes stayed trained on the boy, his smile growing wider and wider with each move he made. That was the boy he'd sang to earlier, but he was with someone else at the time. “Hey..” he said, nudging Benji's shoulder, who just so happened to be looking at the Trebles as if they were gods. “Who's that?” He questioned and pointed toward the boy that had caught his eye.

 

“Who? Oh.. I don't know. Ask.”

 

“ _What?_ Are you kidding me? I can't just _ask_ , that's weird.” Jesse crossed his arms, trying to divert his eyes to somewhere else. He couldn't help but let them stray back over to the boy, who seemed so engrossed in his phone to the point where he wasn't even looking at anyone else, nor where he was going. He was just leaning against the little wall, eyes trained on the screen. “I'll meet him. I'll like, do that whole, 'Oops? What? You were just standing right here and now I'm standing right here and I just totally bumped into you? What?' and then boom, we know each other. Plan, set, final.”

 

Benji raised an eyebrow and nodded his head, lips turned down just a bit. “Might as well. You're gonna audition, right? For the Treblemakers?” He turned to look at him. “I mean.. I'm assuming you can sing.”

 

Jesse shrugged with a slight smile. “Yeah, I sing a little. But, uh..” He gave one last, fleeting look toward the boy on the steps and his smile slowly transformed itself into a smirk. “..I definitely think I'm gonna be auditioning.”

 

“I'm gonna go introduce myself,” Benji mumbled at first, then repeated a little louder. “I'm gonna go introduce myself. It's cool, be cool, 100%. Just a normal day.”

 

“Benji, I don't know if that's--” Jesse started, but stopped when he realzied that Benji was already on his way over to the group of boys who had stopped singing and were standing around a bit, chattering amongst themselves.

 

One boy was standing next to the one Jesse had on his mind, and there was another boy in a hat not too far away, turned to face them as the three talked. Jesse could just barely hear their conversation, and from what he heard, that boy had the most perfect, smooth voice that ever existed ever.

 

“Man, when you came in, strummin' that guitar and you were totally off key I just wanted to _choke_ you!” Bumper said, holding his hands out for emphasis, but he was laughing as he did so.

 

“Bumper--” Donald tried, but it was ignored.

 

Benji stepped up, a smile on his face as he leaned in a little bit. “Hi. Bumper. Big fan. I've seen all of your work, you're wonderful, your covers are just so amazing and I've always seen you as such an inspiration.”

 

Bumper raised his eyebrows and cringed a bit backwards, looking around between the boys. “Uh.. yeah, I have that effect on people. I mean,” He smiled. “Obviously you've noticed that I'm kind of awesome.”

 

Jesse stayed back a little bit, behind the boy, and he smirked. Benji was busy basking in A Capella Idol Glory, and his boy was on his phone. Jesse took a few steps forward, turning around and walking backwards a bit. He bumped his shoulder right with his boy's, and he immediately turned arouond, jumping up exaggeratedly. “Oh!” He smiled, placing a hand over his heart. “My apologies. I seem to have just bumped into you here. Accidentally. Totally not on purpose.” He smiled, holding his hand out. “I'm Jesse. And you are?”

 

Donald looked down at his hand before he reached out to grasp it, shaking it. “Donald.” He took his hand back and smiled. “And uh.. yeah, yeah, I can see that.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and crossed his arms. “You're the guy from the car, right? Earilier?”

 

Taking a step back, Jesse held his hands up. “Whoa.. man, you saw me in my _car?_ I'm not so sure if I can trust you now.”

 

“Oh, you can't?” Donald uncrossed his arms and put his hands in his front pockets instead. “I see where you're coming from, I wouldn't trust me either. Because I was totally chasing your car down the highway.”

 

Jesse smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah? I saw you, you're pretty fast.”

 

Laughing, Donald rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You gonna audition? I hope you know that whether or not you can sing, you're auditioning anyway. Because I want you to.”

 

Nodding his head slowly, Jesse took a step back. “Yep. I'm gonna audition. And you know what? I'm gonna make it, I'm gonna be in the same group as you, and you're just gonna have to interact with me. You're gonna have to. It's inevitable.”

 

“Sounds like a deal. I'll see you there, then.” Donald pulled his hands out of his pockets, and started toward the direction of his dorm. Bumper caught sight, and immediately followed after. The resemblance that he bore to a puppy following it's favorite person was almost uncanny.

 

***

 

“How many people we need?” Bumper asked offhandedly as he threw an arm around Donald's shoulders, hand resting on his bicep.

 

“Off.”

 

Slowly, Bumper retracted his arm, rolling his eyes as if Donald were the one being irritating. “Just answer the damn question, Don, really.”

 

Glancing over, Donald's eyebrows shot up and he paused his scribbling of names down on the clipboard to turn a little in his seat and look at Bumper. “Two. We need two, new people, you assdick.”

 

Bumper reached over and snatched the paper out of Donald's hand, eyes scanning over the pictures. “Jesus Christ..” he hissed and practically tossed the papers back into Donald's lap.

 

“What?” Donald tried straightening them again, but Bumper just reached over and plucked the third paper back from his hands.

 

“ _This_ is what.” Bumper held up the profile, a smug little smirk on his face. “He's here. Of course, _he's_ here. Is the little fucker just going to pop out from under the seats next?”

 

Donald rolled his eyes and took the paper back, putting it on top. “Whatever. Don't think about the fact that I already like him more than you, and just focus on whether or not he sounds like shit.”

 

No other protest besides grumbling under his breath came from Bumper as he slinked back into his seat.

 

As Donald was copying down the names onto the little spreadsheet, to keep track of their comments and notes about everyone, he could hear Bumper's voice echoing off the walls of the auditorium, his too-loud, too-obnoxious voice ringing right into Donald's ear.

 

“Hey, yeah, this is my impression of Aubrey from last year.” He sat up a little straighter and folded his hands in front of him. “ _I saw the--_ ” he cut himself off with fake retching noises, and Donald rolled his eyes in disgust.

 

“Honestly, Bumper, shut the fuck up.”

 

Bumper furrowed his eyebrows and looked over at him, leaning back in his seat yet again. “God, Don, relax. It's called joking, laughing, having fun, might wanna try it sometime.”

 

Donald looked up at him again. “Actually, it's just called being a fuckhead.”

 

The two were interrupted by someone clearing their voice up on the stage. “Alright!” Donald set his pen down and sighed, kicking his feet up on the unoccupied seat in front of him. “Each of you, will be singing sixteen bars of Kelly Clarkson's _Since U Been Gone_. If a group likes you, they will contact you _directly_.”

 

Donald honestly had zoned himself out, pushing Bumper mocking Aubrey and Aubrey calling him out on it out of his mind,and he'd only glanced up at the person who'd stepped onto the stage. “Whenever you're ready, dude,” He mumbled offhandedly, ready to put a check next to someone's name.

 

The person on stage scoffed and took off their hat, showing red hair shaved off to one side. “Yeah.. hi, my name is Cynthia Rose.”

 

“It's not a dude,” Donald said, tapping his pen against his lip, then looked over at Bumper. “It's not a dude.”

 

From then on out, he paid no attention to anything, nothing except checking people's names and and writing down whether they were tone deaf or not. He looked up, however, on the next to last person. A boy, so it pertained to their group, and he smirked as he noted just who it was.

 

“Jesse.”

 

Bumper darted his eyes over, a seemingly disgusted look on his face. He turned back to the stage and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. The kid wasn't even that good. Sure, his voice was alright. Decent at best. But he didn't have the right look. Not even close. So not close. The furthest you could possibly be from close, and that's what he was. Totally not close.

 

Donald tapped his pen gently aginst his knee, listening as the boy's voice floated around the room, nowhere near as loud and unappealing as Bumper's was. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shamelessly letting his eyes roam across the strong biceps poling through Jesse's shirt. The veins in his neck were strained as he belted out the chorus, the falsetto part coming with what seemed like perfect ease, despite the fact that the boy insisted that it was high.

 

“He's good,” Donald whispered over to Bumper. The pale-skinned boy grimaced, face going sour.

 

“Yeah,” he scoffed under his breath. “Right.”

 

Donald quite enjoyed it, enjoyed listening to Jesse sing. He had the kind of voice that would sound nice no matter what he did. Humming while he did homework, telling a story, and Donald was positive that he'd have one of those laughs that made you smile.

 

Shaking his head, Donald's eyes widened momentarily before he closed them. He had to steady himself with a few deep breaths, because what in the actual fuck was he doing? He didn't need to be thinking about people like that, let alone people who were auditioning for the Trebles.

 

As soon as Jesse had finished and everyone clapped, Bumper kept his arms crossed and didn't even spare the stage a glance. “He wasn't that good.”

 

Donald shot a glare in his direction before he shoved the clipboard into his lap. “Aw, is little Bumper jealous?”

 

“Dude, no, I'm not—no. Just no.”

 

“Mhm,” Donald hummed, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips. “Then why are your panties in a twist? Surely the big bad Bumper isn't intimidated by a freshman.”

 

Bumper scoffed heavily and sat up a little straighter, hands on the armrests of the auditorium seat. “I'm fucking not! Why would I be intimidated? He's got nothing on me.”

 

Donald smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Whatever you say, Bumpy.”

 

“I told you stop calling me that! I'm not seven, you can't call me kid nicknames. Totally not cool, Don. Not cool.” Bumper tapped his shoe on the ground, up and down, up and down, tap, tap, tap.

 

“Mmkay, Bumpy.”

 

“Fucking stop!”

 

 

***

 

Donald leaned back against the brick wall, phone tight in his hand. He pushed the little call button down and pressed the phone to his ear. It rang, a little trilling noise, and Donald sighed heavily.

 

“ _Hello?'_

 

“Jesse!” Donald smiled and crossed one arm over his chest. “I've got some good news, buddy.”

 

“ _Oh? Good news how?”_

 

Donald smirked, shrugging and tilting his head to the side. “I don't know. That depends on whether or not you want the answer I'm gonna give you.”

 

“ _I'm pretty sure whatever you tell me, I'm going to like. It could be about the grass and I'd be interested.”_

 

Donald rolled his eyes. “It's about auditions. Turns out, you have a nice voice and the majority of the Trebles agreed that we wanted you in the group. So you are.”

 

The line was silent for a few moments. So silent, in fact, that Donald had thought Jesse hung up on him. But let's be real here, just for a second. He wouldn't do that. Donald was Donald, and nobody hung up on Donald.

 

“ _I.. I'm in? I actually got in? Like, you're serious? I'm in?”_

 

Laughing, Donald nodded his head. “Yep, you're totally in. We only had two spots and you've got one of them.”

 

“ _Sick, man! Thank you so much, seriously. I promise I won't let you guys down.”_

 

“Yeah, you'd better not. Listen,” Donald hopped down off the brick wall and started back toward his dorm, attention completely zeroed in on his conversation with Jesse. “There's this thing that we do; it's called Aca-Initiation night. For everyone that makes it into a group, you know, all that. Anyways, you're coming. It starts at ten, so meet the rest of the Trebles in the middle of the quad. On the stairs we were on a few days ago, you know.”

 

“ _Yeah, yeah, I'll totally meet you on the stairs. I meant like.. you as in like you guys, the rest of the Trebles. Not just you! Unless you wanted me to mean just you or is that what you meant in the first place?”_

 

There was another pause.

 

“ _..So.. did you mean just you or everyone--”_

 

“Everyone,” Donald cut in.

 

“ _Yeah, got it, got it, totally. See you there then!”_

 

Donald smiled. “See ya there, Jesse.” The two really didn't say goodbye, just mutually hung up, and Donald shoved his phone back into his pocket. Jesse was a Treble.. hm.They'd be spending quite a bit of time together, and the boy's flirting wasn't exactly discreet.

 

A buzz of his phone in his pocket alerted him, tearing him away from his thoughts and instead drawing his attention to the new message on the screen. The nameless contact number that he'd put in there not too long ago read across the top of the little message box.

 

_'You do realize that I've got your number now ;) I'm flattered, Donald, but I think we're moving a bit too fast for this to be anything but casual! -Jesse'_

 

***

 

“Shit,” Jesse cursed as he felt the tag of his t-shirt press against his chest. He tugged his arms back through the sleeves and, quite gracelessly, turned it around the proper way. “Benj, does this look okay?” he asked and turned around with his arms stretched out to his sides to face his roommate, who was laying on his bed, absentmindedly pulling silk scarf after colored, silk scarf from nowhere (he was totally just getting them from the inside of his sleeve).

 

Benji looked up, bushy eyebrow s raised as he looked over the outfit Jesse wore. Nothing too fancy; a blue t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of grey sneakers. “Yeah, looks fine,” he mumbled, looking back down to the scarves in his hands.

 

Jesse sighed quietly, walking over and sitting down on the end of his bed. “Hey..” he murmured. “Don't beat yourself up. You've got an amazing voice. And who knows what'll happen?” He smiled, shaking his head with his eyebrows raised just slightly. “Maybe one of the Trebles will drink poisonous apple juice and you'll get a spot.”

 

Benji actually cracked a little smile and he shrugged his shoulders. “It's alright. There were people better than me, who deserved it more. I didn't even really prepare.”

 

“Benj. You know that's a lie. I heard you every time you showered singing the same damn bars over and over again.” He put a hand on Benji's shoulder. “You'll find something.” He stood up, grabbing his phone. “Don't stay up too late, now. And behave for the babysitter.”

 

A smile worked it's way onto Benji's lips and he slowly nodded his head, setting down the scarves on the side table and gently folding his hands over his stomach. “Sure thing.”

 

Jesse's 'stern' expression dissipated and he grasped the doorknob, tugging it open. “I'll see you when I get back, okay?”

 

“Yeah.. okay.”

 

***

 

Jesse walked down the sidewalk toward the steps where the Trebles had been a few days ago, and he immediately spotted an array of maroon jackets. “What?”

 

Bumper glanced up and he scoffed, looking over at Donald, who hadn't yet noticed the presence of the slightly shorter boy. He walked over to the step Donald was sitting on, smiling a bit before he sat down and leaned back, slipping his arm over and putting a hand on the middle of the dark-skinned boy's back.

 

He continued tapping away at his phone screen, barely even acknowledging the boy next to him. Jesse, however, sspotted the small movement and he sighed heavily, keeping his wide smile as he walked the rest of the short distance. “Sup, guys?”

 

Donald looked up and he smirked, putting his phone down on the step. “Hey!” He looked down at his lap and picked up a maroon jacket that was resting there. He took a glance down at the the tag, then frowned. “Oh, hang on.” He unzipped his own jacket, shucking it off and then looking at the tag on that one as well. “Yeah, I grabbed the wrong jacket. Explains why it was a little baggy.”

 

He handed it up to Jesse and put the small on, rather than the medium—hey, those biceps need to go somewhere, alright-- and zipped it up a little. He furrowed his eyebrows and wiggled a little, urging Bumper's hand off of his back.

 

As Jesse slipped the jacket on, he found it comfortably warm and he gently ran his fingers along the sleeve. “Wow.. official Treblemakers jacket, huh?” It was soft, already warmed up for him, and it smelled pleasantly of cologne. Is that what Donald smelled like? It was.. “Wonderful.”

 

Bumper's lips turned down into a pompous glower, eyes scouring over Jesse quickly before he leaned back and turned his head in the other direction. His hand slowly slipped behind Donald again, but rather than touching him, he just rested his hand on the step.

 

“What was that?” Donald questioned, looking up at Jesse for a moment.

 

“Oh,” Jesse shoved his hands into the thin pockets. “Nothin'.”

 

***

 

Jesse knocked back the rest of the drink that was in the red solo cup clutched tightly in his hand. He'd been drinking for the better part of an hour, and he was tipsy. He'd lost track of what he was putting into his cup forty-five minutes ago, if that says anything.

 

“Donald! Don!” Jesse called, not loud enough to be heard over the music that was playing. “ _Old Mc_ _ **Donald**_ _had a farm!_ Where you been, buddy?”

 

Donald smiled, lowering his own cup from where it was raised to his lips. “You're really drunk right now,” he said, tilting his head to the side with his lips slightly puckered.

 

“Nah,” Jesse insisted, shaking his head and momentarily closing his eyes.

 

“I don't think you're gonna remember any of this.”

 

Jesse tried pulling a cocky grin, lifting his shoulders slightly. “I'm not drunk, you're just blurry.”

 

Donald laughed, his smirk turning into a smile. “You okay? Yeah? You almost fell over?” He gently reached out and pushed at Jesse's chest, making the boy sway backwards a little.

 

“Yep, see how I come right back?” Jesse stated, pulling himself back to a straighter position.

 

“Can you stand up straight?” Donald stretched his hand out again and tapped a few more times against Jesse's chest.

 

“Aaand, I come.. right back.”

 

Donald sat down on the back of the large, cement bench and he could feel himself practically beaming at the boy in front of him. He was just too endearing. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”

 

Jesse hopped up to sit on the back of the cement bench that was right in front of Donald, resting his feet on the seat of the bench that the dark-skinned boy sat on, his sneakers just on the outside of Donald's. “A few. And by a few, I mean seven, but numbers totally aren't important right now.” He shook his head. “Let's just not pay attention to numbers.”

 

The music around them shifted, switching and shuffling to a different song. _“Whoa. Eh. Whoa, oh oh! I been waitin' on the sunset, bills on my mindset, I can deny they're gettin' high.”_

 

“Seven?” Donald asked, grinning. “Well then, since you're apparently an expert at pouring drinks, how's about you go and get me one?”

 

Jesse reached forward, sliding his fingertips briefly along the side of Donald's hand before he gripped the cup and took it. “Sure thing,” he said with a wink and slid down to touch his feet to the ground, moving out of the row of seats and walking toward where the drinks were, through the large cluster of people.

 

Donald watched him leave, the fact that he was slightly tipsy making his eyes stray down to stare right at Jesse's ass. Four drinks wasn't a lot, right? Yeah, not a lot.

 

Bumper glanced over Unicycle's shoulder, eyes catching on a Donald that was sitting by himself. He handed his drink off to Unicycle and began to saunter over toward where Donald was. He came up in the row back, stopping just behind the other boy. Bumper slowly reached his hands up and placed them on Donald's shoulders, leaning forward a bit. “Whatcha doin'? Sitting over here all by yourself?”

 

Donald lifted an eyebrow. “I'm waiting for Jesse. Went to go and get a drink.”

 

Rolling his eyes, a disgusted grimace on his face, Bumper leaned down a little closer. He just wanted Donald to hear him better, really that was his only intention.. not really..

 

“Why don't you just forget about Jesse? What's got your head all wrapped up in him, huh? He's fresh meat, Don. Hasn't toughened up, hasn't learned the _ropes_. Speaking of ropes..” He pressed a gentle kiss to Donald's cheek, just in front of his ear. “We could definitely just head back to the dorm room. Have our own little party.” Donald was definitely drunk enough, tipsy enough at least, to let a bit of himself go. And Bumper was definitely going to jump on that. Jump on it like.. like a clever metaphor.

 

Donald let his pearly, white teeth graze over his plump, bottom lip for a moment, absentmindedly leaning back against the firm chest behind him. “Jesse's gonna come back. Wonder where I went.” He sighed heavily. “I feel like I should stay.”

 

Bumper took a deep breath and slowly retracted his arms. “Seriously? You're gonna pass this up,” he gestured to himself. “For Broadway Boy over there?”

 

Donald pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, nodding his head. “Yeah,” He agreed. “Yeah, pretty sure I am.” He lifted a hand and swatted it out a little. “Run along, Bumpy. Find someone drunk enough to sleep with you.”

 

At first, Bumper just glared at him, but eventually he just scoffed and unzipped his jacket, flapping out the ends slightly. “Maybe I will.”

 

The music blared loudly from the speakers that they had set up, and Jesse was pretty sure that he was just going to be deaf tomorrow morning. The drinks table was right in front of one of the speakers and Jesse couldn't hear a single thing when he walked away. Of course, it ebbed back into his senses that he could in fact still hear things.

 

He hopped up onto the seat of the row in front of Donald, climbed over the back, and moved to sit down. _“You gotta keep your head up, oh.. 'cause you got, I don't know the words,”_ he sang as he sat down in the seat he'd taken before and handed Donald his drink.

 

Donald smiled and took a sip, watching as Jesse hummed along with the music, despite honestly not knowing the words. At least.. when he was drunk he didn't know them.

 

“Hey,” Donald murmured, and honestly he was sure that Jesse didn't even hear him. “How about we go dance? You're drunk enough, so I'm definitely not taking no for an answer.” He wiggled his eyebrows slightly, smirking exaggeratedly over the rim of his cup.

 

Jesse laughed and nodded his head, pushing the sleeves of his jacket up. “Yeah, totally! But we're dancing _together,_ because you definitely just asked me.”

 

“No, I don't think I did.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you did, we're dancing together. It's inevitable.”

 

“Is it? Is it really?”

 

Jesse nodded his head and reached out, snatching Donald's cup and setting it down on the seat. “Mhm, inevitable. So come on, let's go bask in the inevitableness.”

 

Donald shook his head fondly and stood, jumping down onto the concrete. He reached forward and grasped onto Jesse's hand, walking backwards while simultaneously tugging Jesse forward. “That's not a word, idiot.”

 

“It is when you're drunk.”

 

When they reached the part of the area where everyone was dancing, Donald pulled Jesse just inside of it and turned to face him. “I hope all that flirting you did wasn't for nothing.”

 

Jesse reached forward and placed his hands low on Donald's hips, squeezing gently. “Who says I'm gonna stop flirting? You don't see us together yet, do you?”

 

Donald licked his lips slowly. “I do by the end of tonight. If you'd like to, that is.”

 

Jesse took a little step closer, swaying just enough to the music that it made Donald sway as well. “I'm not stupid, just drunk. How could I not want to?”

 

“Thought you said you weren't drunk, huh?” Donald reached up and pressed his hands against Jesse's upper arms, fingers slowly dancing across the material of his jacket.

 

“I say so many things, how can you remember them all? Words, man. Just words.” Jesse rocked his hips along with the beat, his torso rolling slightly as he moved from one side to the other, effectively taking Donald with him.

 

Donald stepped closer, moving until he had to put his hands on Jesse's shoulders instead. They were nearly the same height, give or take a few units of measurement that were too tiny to really even count.

 

“Yeah..” he whispered, sliding his fingertips along the back of Jesse's neck. “..just words.”

 

Jesse let his hands glide back around to the small of Donald's back, pressing them there tightly, at the same time tugging him forth. He pressed his midriff up against Donald's torso, bowing toward him just enough that their noses were only briefly touching, only brushing together when one of them would rock their hips a certain way or shift just right.

 

“If I didn't know any better,” Donald murmured, tilting his chin up just a little to raise his lips above Jesse's, then tilting it back down. “I'd think you were trying to ease yourself into a kiss.”

 

“I'm not trying to ease myself into anything. I can just do it and you wouldn't put up any objections.”

 

Donald quirked up an eyebrow. “Just how are you so sure about that?”

 

Jesse laughed quietly, his breath washing softly across Donald's lips, giving him the faintest taste and smell of the spiked tea that Jesse had been drinking earlier. All seven cups worth. “I'm not. But I'm kind of hoping that you won't.. because I kind of really want to, and if you objected, then I'd be sad and I'd have to go back to my dorm and just mope. Maybe not even come to practice because just seeing you would tear my little heart into shambles.”

 

“God, just shut up.” Donald gently tilted his chin up and briefly brushed their lips together, just enough to make Jesse try and lean in for another small touch, a wisp of those little shocks that hit his lips when they barely came into contact with the other's.

 

“I'll shut up if you kiss me.”

 

Donald shook his head. “I can think of some other ways to keep you quiet. Well.. maybe quiet.”

 

Jesse bit his bottom lip and pulled back just enough to look at the boy in front of him, movements ceased. “Seriously? Like.. serious, seriously?”

 

Donald closed his eyes and sighed, shoulders dropping a little. “I guess we're just going to completely forget about that moment, because it's totally gone.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at Jesse, hands still on the back of his neck with Jesse's holding onto his waist. “That's kind of the part where you go, ' _I can't guarantee I'll be quiet_ ' and then I'm all ' _Why don't we go find out_ ' and you're like ' _Okay_ ', and then that's that.. But no, we can do it the boring way.”

 

Jesse gave him a brief look of confusion, and then he shook his head, seeming to draw himself back into the moment. “Oh! Right, right, sorry.” He cleared his throat, momentarily closing his eyes before he opened them up again and put on an expression that was half-drunk looking and half-disoriented. “I can't guarantee I'll be quiet.”

 

“You're something else.”

 

“Donald, you're doing this all wrong. This is the part where you say ' _Why don't we go find out'_ and then I'm like ' _Okay'_.” Jesse moved his hands underneath Donald's jacket and leaned in to delicately brush his nose against Donald's cheek, lips dangerously close to his skin. “You clearly don't know how this whole thing works.”

 

Donald shook his head. “I clearly don't. Why don't you teach me, O Wise One?”

 

Jesse pulled back and stepped away, gripping Donald's hand. “I think I'm just going to have to.” He smiled. “It's such a shame that you haven't been properly educated on the way to pick people up. Surely you should have it down by now.”

 

“I'm hopeless, you don't even understand.” Donald shook his head and started pulling Jesse out of the small crowd. He started up the little ramp to the exit at the top and he looked over at the boy beside him who was swaying a little. “You're so drunk, I hope you realize that.”

 

“Donald,” Jesse started, reaching over and placing his other hand on Donald's shoulder. “Donald.. Donald..”

 

“Yes, Donald, my name--”

 

“Shh..” Jesse put a hand on the top of his head as they walked. “Donald.. Donald. We've talked about this. I'm not drunk, there just may or may not be more than one of you in my vision right now.”

 

Bumper glared after them, teeth clenched. “Fuck them,” he hissed, throwing his cup in the trash angrily.

 

Unicycle took a drink from his own half-empty cup. “Actually, I think that's what they're going to do--”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Bumper tugged the zipper of his jacket up and pushed his hands in the pockets. “Shouldn't have let him in. He's fucking taking everything.”

 

“What else were we supposed to do, just lose people?” Unicycle rolled his eyes, hopping up to sit on the stage.

 

Bumper threw his hands up. “Yes! That's exactly what we need to do! We should have just let that weirdo with the magic nerd-bubble around himself in. At least he wouldn't try to fuck around with someone who is _clearly_ taken.”

 

“You mean not taken.”

 

Bumper turned to him. “I thought I said to shut the fuck up. I'm pretty sure those were the words that came out of my mouth. I'm pretty sure that means you need to actually stop talking.”

 

Unicycle went to open his mouth and speak again, but Bumper lifted a hand to cover instead. “No, seriously. I actually need you to stop talking.”

 

Fucking Jesse Swanson. Ruining everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this took so long. I just.. I don't even know. I couldn't get the things from my brain onto the paper. My sister, Emono-Omae, is writing a fic as well for Desse that I am making her post. Because reasons. Some elements in our fics will be similar, because we share ideas and discuss things, so there is no copying or anything like that! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and you can read it on Tumblr as well, on my blog. Frivolouspixie.tumblr.com!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read this and is coming back for another chapter. Almost 100 hits? That's amazing!! Considering the Desse ship is so small! Feedback and Kudos are GREATLY appreciated :) I also take suggestions for things you'd like to see in the chapter, so please share with me!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, everyone!! The next one might be a little slow, because band camp is taking up my entire week, but I promise to try hard!
> 
> Enjoy the Desse.
> 
> Seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT!
> 
> I want to deeply, sincerely apologize for the news I'm about to give, but this fic is going on hiatus for a little while. I have most of the next chapter finished, but bringing myself to write it is really hard. I've got so much going on right now, and I need a little time to focus on some other things without this fic being on the back of my mind. I hate to disappoint anyone, because anyone who has read this fic is an amazing person and I love you forever, because you're reading something I've taken time and effort on, and it means so much to me. I'm so sorry that it'll be a while, but I'll really try to make it worth the wait. Wow, two chapters and a hiatus already. Author of the year award, everyone... :) Thanks so much for the read, and I hope you can just read these two chapters over and over and over again... because... that's all there is.
> 
> I love all of you to pieces, so thanks for being so cooperative with me!! I hope you all stick around :)
> 
> -Frivolous Pixie xoxo

“So how long have you been going here?” Jesse asked, turning his head to look over at the dark-haired boy. He had the smoothest, most beautiful skin that he had ever seen. And a part of him just really, _really_ wanted to bite it.

 

Donald tilted his head back, looking up as he walked for a few moments before he turned his head as well to watch Jesse, who was staggering slightly as he walked. “Three years.”

 

Jesse's eyebrows shot up and he had an expression of obvious surprise on his gentle features. “Wow.. a junior, huh? I'd have never thought.”

 

“Hm..” Donald nodded and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. He spared one more glance over toward the brunette and he let a slow grin slip onto his full lips. He slid himself over until he was sidled up next to Jesse, and the older of the two reached his hand out, gliding it along the singer's back before he gripped carefully onto the fabric of his jacket, bunching it up in his palm.

 

The broad-shouldered boy glanced up at Donald for a brief moment, skimming his fingertips delicately across the beat-box’s lower back, across the cool material that covered his lean torso.

 

Donald leaned over, his plump lips just barely grazing against Jesse's ear. “Good thing the Treble house is close. If it were any further I might have to just sneak us behind a wall and we'd have our fun there.”

 

A shiver jolted the singer's body, but it only made his fingers shake slightly.. or maybe a little more than slightly. “I'm pretty sure that breaks a few campus rules.”

 

“Like that matters.”

 

Jesse's eyes widened just slightly and he let out a slightly surprised breath, or at least what sounded like one. “I.. I mean, it kind of does, if you're talking about--”

 

“Doesn't matter.”

 

***

 

Jesse pressed the arrow pointing up on the elevator and he anxiously lifted his eyes to look at the ceiling. “We should have just taken the stairs. Would have been faster. There's a reason stairs were invented before elevators, because they're better. Why do you guys even have an elevator? There are _two_ floors in this house.”

 

“Because we can.”

 

He looked down at the watch that wasn't on his wrist and he puffed his lips out, sighing heavily. “This would be so much easier if we'd just--” he cut himself off when he felt something firm and warm press up behind him, arms slowly snaking themselves around his waist.

 

“You talk way too much,” Donald whispered, nudging just underneath the singer's jaw with his nose. He smelled of cologne, something manly. Definitely manly. “I might just have to find a better use for that mouth.”

 

The younger of the two inhaled sharply, letting his eyes fall shut briefly. “Fuck.. can we do that, please? I'll keep talking if you want me to, I'll totally keep talking. I can talk about the weather, politics, I mean I could go for days.”

 

Donald let out a heavy breath, laying his forehead against Jesse's shoulder. “You have this thing for ruining moments, Jesse. I don't know if anyone's told you.”

 

Jesse smirked. “You just did.”

 

“Oh my god, really? Is sarcasm really needed right now?”

 

“Oh yeah, really.”

 

The ravenette softly grazed his lips across Jesse's neck, leaving a trail of burning skin behind. “You're definitely something different.. and I'm not sure what about you makes you so irresistible. But whatever it is,” he paused to shove Jesse toward the open doors of the elevator. “I have unfortunately fallen victim to it. Your powers are just too strong.”

 

Jesse's skin was flushed and he swore that somebody had wires pressed to his nerves, because they all felt like they were jolting with heated electricity. He swallowed thickly and reached forward, grasping onto the front of Donald's jacket. He tugged him forward roughly, brown eyes boring into the older boy's own. “It's not fair to get me all riled up and then just push me away. You have no manners.”

 

Donald smirked, reaching out to lay his hands on the singer's biceps. “Maybe you need to teach me some.. It's only polite, after all, since your manners are apparently immaculate.”

 

Shaking his head, Jesse fluttered his eyes closed, waiting until the door was shut to lean in for a kiss. He was ready for one, definitely ready for one, but when his lips connected with a jaw rather than another pair of lips, a pair of beautiful, pink lips, he pulled back in confusion.

 

“No kisses,” Donald murmured. He moved forward and pushed his lips to the younger's neck instead. The skin was soft and smooth, but he got a coating of aftershave on his tongue that smells better than it tastes.

 

Jesse absentmindedly tilted his head to the opposite side, giving Donald plenty of room. He couldn't keep himself from asking, simply because he was Jesse and that's what Jesse did. “Why not?”

 

Donald pushed down the smart ass comment that threatened to come out, and instead just shook his head. “Because.”

 

He pushed his lips just underneath Jesse's jaw, parting them to slowly latch onto the skin. His tongue swirled around the small sliver of skin for only a moment before he sucked on it, effectively leaving the beginnings of a hickey. Donald smirked with satisfaction when the broad-shouldered boy's throat rumbled with a groan and he sucked a little harder, pulling back after a few moments to survey his work. It was dark red, almost a blooming purple and he couldn't help but lick over it once.

 

The brunette pushed lightly at Donald's chest, despite the fact that his body was telling him to keep the boy there, pressed up against him for as long as he possibly could. “Do you share a room with someone? Will they be back?”

 

The beat-box shook his head, reaching up to brush his fingers along the back of Jesse's neck. “Nah. Bumper's at the initiation.. probably won't be back for a while.”

 

“You share with Bumper?” Jesse asked curiously, brow knitting together briefly. “I thought you guys got your own rooms?”

 

Donald shook his head, humming softly and sighing while he did so. “Nope. Rooms are pretty big.. but eight people, four rooms.. we share.”

 

Jesse pursed his lips for a moment and then turned to look at him. “Right, but like.. I thought you hated Bumper. I feel like you hate Bumper--”

 

“I feel like you should stop fucking talking about Bumper.” Donald took a step up and turned into the last stretch of the hallway.

 

The freshman walked briskly with Donald trailing right behind him, the dark-skinned boy occasionally skimming his fingertips along the curve of Jesse's bicep or up and down his side. The singer was practically squirming where he stood. When the older boy tugged on his arm and pulled him to a stop, Jesse stumbled slightly before he turned to look at him. “What? Why are we stopping? Are we doing it here?” He paused again. “In the hallway?”

 

Donald sighed quietly and shook his head. He lifted his hands to press the heels of his palm to his eyes. “No, no, just..” he took a deep breath and grabbed Jesse's hand again. “..it's just that my room is this way. On the other end of the hallway.”

 

“Oh.” Jesse had to speed up his steps to keep up with the dark-haired boy. By the time that he'd gotten himself caught up, Donald had already stopped in front of a door. He pushed it open and smirked upon seeing that it was empty, reaching back to pull Jesse inside.

 

“We've got the whole room to ourselves..” the ravenette whispered, reaching behind with his foot to kick the door closed.

 

Jesse nodded slowly, eyes shifting over to the posters and photos and decorations on the walls. A hand reached up to cup his jaw and pull his head back straight. Donald locked his dark brown eyes onto Jesse's slightly lighter ones, seeing the drunken lust clouded over his irises. He figured that he could look at those eyes all day.

 

He moved his right hand down, grasping onto brunette's wrist. He tugged it forward and delicately placed it on the belt of his jeans. “Do whatever you're comfortable with.” He suddenly took a slight step back and he looked at Jesse with wide eyes. “Wait, you're not.. you're not like a virgin or anything, right?”

 

A grin spread onto Jesse's rosy, pink lips as he shook his head and grasped at Donald's belt again. “Nah.. don't worry about that. I know what I'm doing.”

 

A quiet chuckle bubbled out from Donald's lips and he nodded his head, tilting his head down to let his eyes rest on the form of Jesse's hands, slowly tugging on his belt. “We're not even gonna make it to the bed? I didn't think you were that kind of boy, Jess.”

 

The nickname made Jesse's stomach clench up with arousal and his fingertips twitched absently. “I.. just.. _shit_ , go over on the bed, then.”

 

Donald shook his head. “No, no, do whatever you want. If you wanna do it right here,” he leaned in and kissed just in front of Jesse's ear. “Do it right here. I've got no problem with that.” He reached behind the brunette, letting his wrist skim across his shirt. “I'll even lock the door for you.”

 

Jesse had to close his eyes and the only thing he found himself able to do was nod. “Yeah, totally. I'll just.. just.. do things.” He reached up and pulled the zipper of Donald's jacket open, eyes scanning down, up, across every single inch of skin that he possibly could. His fingers curled around the flap of the beat-box’s belt, pulling it through the loop and letting it hang there briefly. “Can't wait to get your clothes off.”

 

“Hurry up, then.” Donald swallowed roughly, throat all of a sudden feeling dry and scratchy. Maybe he shouldn't do this. Should he? He moved his hands forward to push Jesse's shoulders, ready to tell him that this wouldn't be such a good idea, but his hands just came in contact with the wooden door instead.

 

The younger had since sank down to his knees on the carpet, deft fingers popping open the button to Donald's jeans, dragging the zipper down along with it as he tugged the two sides open. His dark eyes locked onto the beat-box’s own, and Donald couldn't hold the strong gaze for more than a few seconds before he had to close his eyes.

 

If Donald hadn't been as drunk as he was, he wouldn't be as hard as he was. Something about alcohol and attractive boys just did it for him, because while his mind was telling him that this shouldn't happen, he shouldn't do this, _remember what happened last time?_ , he couldn't stop. The dark-skinned boy reached his hand down and softly carded his fingers through Jesse's hair, the smooth locks gliding pleasantly against his hand.

 

Jesse hooked his fingers into the waistband of Donald's jeans, pulling them down just enough to give him the best access he could. He settled them so the waistband was just around the tops of the ravenette's thighs, lifting his hand with slight hesitancy to stroke across the bulge resting in Donald's black briefs.

 

“Just get on with it..” Donald hissed, leaning his head against the door in front of him, back hunching over slightly. “..please.” He tugged just so on the younger's hair and Jesse let out a soft moan, nodding his head.

 

“Right, okay.” He pulled at the elastic of the briefs and let go, making it snap back against Donald's smooth, caramel skin. Jesse couldn't resist, so he leaned in once and bussed a kiss across the older boy's hipbone. If he had to compare the boy's skin to anything, he'd compare it to sunshine, because it was warm, smooth, and just touching it made Jesse hot under the collar.

 

He continued on, pressing sweet kisses anywhere he could. It was too sweet for Donald's taste, really. Jesse plucked at the waistband of Donald's briefs, going to pull them down. Just as he caught sight of a few coarse, black hairs, two tanned hands stopped him. “Bed,” Donald breathed, eyes shut to keep the visual stimulation away as much as he could.

 

Jesse nodded his head and stood up, not hesitating to shove at the ravenette's shoulders, pushing him back toward the bed. He wasn't sure if this was Donald's bed or not, but when the boy was this ready and this willing to do what Jesse wanted to do with him, then he'd be an even bigger idiot to not take the offer.

 

Donald sucked in a sharp breath as he flopped back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Jesse practically slithered up the bed, moving quickly to straddle the ravenette's legs, just below his knees. He patted Donald's side, urging him to lift his hips from the blankets. As soon as he did, Jesse pulled his briefs down to meet where his pants were.

 

The brunette could almost feel his mouth watering at the sight of Donald's dark, hard cock curved up toward his stomach. Slowly, Jesse glided his hands up the beat-box’s thighs, taking in the smoothness of the dark, golden skin. It was beautiful, and he just wanted to lick it, so he did. Leaning forward, the singer parted his lips darted his tongue out, dragging it up from the middle of Donald's thigh to the place where his thigh met his groin.

 

“Shit,” Donald whispered, one hand coming up to rest behind his head, the other one going down to cradle the back of Jesse's neck, tugging on his hair, and at the same time, urging him closer. “Please.. I need it. I just.. I need it.”

 

Jesse nodded his head and he bit his bottom lip briefly before he puckered his lips and pressed a small kiss to the vein that ran along the underside of the hard length in front of him. The taste of salt coated his tongue when he swiped it across the head and he really couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. The singer let his hands rest on Donald's hips, gripping them ever so lightly. He parted his lips and brought the very tip into his mouth, sucking on His eyes stared up at the dark-haired boy beneath him, said boy's eyes closed behind the lenses of his thick glasses.

 

Donald pushed Jesse's head down, urging him further onto his cock that was nearly aching with how hard he was. Jesse's mouth was _right there_ and it was so easy to take advantage of that. Jesse, however, seemed to take the hint. He stopped fooling around, opening up his mouth a little wider and taking in as much of the dark-skinned boy's length that he could. It was smooth, free of foreskin, and it felt hot and heavy on the singer's tongue.

 

The older boy bit his bottom lip roughly, holding in the sounds of pleasure that so desperately wanted to spill into the nearly silent air between them. Jesse was honestly wondering if he was doing something wrong. Was he not sucking hard enough? Was he going too slow? Did Donald want something that he just wasn't giving? Oh god, he probably wanted Jesse to whip him or something--

 

“Hey..” Donald murmured, voice sounding strained and slightly choked off. “You're doing good.. doing so good..” He bit his bottom lip and shut his eyes again, hand gently pressing against Jesse's cheek. “Keep going. I promise, you're doing so good.”

 

Jesse pulled off with a slight pop, nodding his head. He pushed his hands up, underneath Donald's shirt, skimming the caramel colored flesh that was hot with arousal that the singer knew was for him. At this point, he honestly wouldn't even care if Donald reciprocated the favor, because this was pleasurable enough. The younger lightly dragged his short nails across the beat-box’s sides and licked a slow stripe beneath his cock.

 

Donald sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it roughly. “ _Shit,_ Jess.. feels so good. Just need.. need a little more.”

 

“Mhm,” the singer hummed. He could only fit about half of Donald's cock in his mouth, but what he could fit tasted like such perfection that he figured, if possible, he could stay like this forever. He could feel the older boy's abs clenching underneath his fingertips.

 

Gasping ever so quietly, Donald threaded his fingers into the younger boy's hair, pulling on it slightly as he felt himself nearing that blissful edge. “Fuck.. gonna cum, Jess..”

 

Jesse nodded his head eagerly, working his throat the best that he could around the cock that had pushed itself deeper, searching for the heat and friction that was waiting for him just a _little_ deeper. He squeezed Donald's sides, pulling his hips closer as he bobbed his head up and down, urging him closer and closer. Closer, just a little bit.. little bit more and he'd be there.

 

When Jesse did that _thing_ with his tongue, gliding it along the very edge of his tip, slipping it to the slit for only a brief moment, Donald swore he was oblivious to anything and everything other than the blinding pleasure that was the orgasm rushing over him.

 

He slipped his hands from Jesse's hair as his back that he didn't even know was arched lowered down to the bed once again. _“God.._ ” he took a deep breath and let it out, fluttering his eyes open to look down at the boy who had since pulled away. Donald smirked, lifting a hand to cup Jesse's jaw. He gently brushed his thumb across Jesse's bottom lip where a bit of white had gathered at the corner of his mouth. “That was good, Jess.” He sighed softly and lifted his hips, tugging his jeans back up, buttoning them.

 

“Well, thanks for that. But uh,” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Time to go.”

 

Jesse sat back for a moment, brow knitted in confusion. “I..” He started. “..what?”

 

Donald rolled over onto his side, a quiet yawn filling the silence that had settled on them. “I mean, you did your stuff, it was good. Leave.”

 

The singer took a light breath, then shook his head, biting his bottom lip before standing up. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Right, I'll just.. leave.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Jesse pulled open the door and walked out, shutting it behind him. He pushed his hands into his pockets and decided on the stairs, rather than the motherfucking, fucking, elevator, damn it. Donald.

 

Fucking. Donald.

 

He tugged the front door open and slammed it shut behind him. _“Fuck_ him. Fuck _him,_ and everything about.. him..” Jesse clenched his teeth and lifted his palms to scrub at his eyes. “Jesus.. God.. _fuck, everything!_ ” He sniffled, shaking his head, tugging on the ends of his short hair.

 

Donald buried his face into the pillow and he took a deep breath, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. “I'm such a dick.” He turned over and looked up at the ceiling, shoving his glasses onto the bedside table. “ _Shit_ , I'm Bumper.”

 

***

 

“Eyyyy! Donny!”

 

Donald groaned, bringing his pillow over his hand and smashing the sides over his ears. He could taste something disgusting in his mouth and his head was pounding with a hangover. _'I really need to stop drinking cheap alcohol. I'm gonna die one of these days.'_ If he'd ever been hit by a truck, he was pretty sure it would feel like this. Like shit. Like Bumper was clapping his hands right next to his--

 

“Don! Donny! Donaaald!” Bumper was practically applauding an imaginary act in the room, and his hands just so happened to be just above the ravenette's head. “Get up, buddy! We got pah-ractice!”

 

The dark-haired boy clenched his eyes shut. “Oh my god, _Bumper_. You need to stop, seriously, I'm actually going to kill you.” He rolled back over and slowly moved the pillow away from his face, the light that flooded into his eyes making his head swell up with pressure. “Jesus.. Have I ever told you that I hate you?”

 

Bumper reached down and grasped onto the blankets, then tugged them away and onto the floor. “Only everyday, Donny. Now, c'mon! I got a surprise for you at practice, so you really should get up. Else you're gonna miss it!”

 

Donald groaned loudly, trying to curl up, but Bumper just jumped up onto the bed instead. He bounced up and down a few times, putting his hands on the beat-box’s chest. “Hey! Hey! Hey! None of that, man! Get up, up, up, up!” His voice was unbelievably loud; at least to Donald it was. It was as if he was screaming at the top of lungs, and.. really, he could have been. He wouldn't put it past Bumper. He wouldn't put anything past Bumper.

 

Scooting toward the edge of the bed, the younger of the two pushed off the mattress and unbuttoned his jeans, shrugging off his jacket and shirt before he went to change into a different, more comfortable pair of clothes.

 

“You know,” Bumper started, leaning against the now open door of the closet. “I didn't think I'd get to see you naked this soon.”

 

Donald rolled his eyes, face pulling into a grimace. “You're a disgusting pig and you'll never see me naked again. That's over.”

 

Bumper's eyebrows shot up and he pursed his lips. “Uh, really? 'Cause I feel like you're just lying to yourself. I mean, I already know what's going to happen in the near future, so.. I'm pretty sure you're the only one denying it at this point.”

 

Against his better judgment, the beat-box opted to step out of his jeans. He chose, however, to not change his briefs; at least not with the creepiest-creep of them all standing five feet away from him. He tugged on a pair of gray sweatpants, a black-t-shirt, and whatever sneakers were the first matching pair he found. “Actually, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who thinks that's going to happen.”

 

Once he was dressed, Donald grabbed two Tylenol from the bottle sitting on his bedside table and he pushed them into his pocket so he could take them when he actually had water. Or coffee, energy drinks, soda, whatever someone gave him, honestly.

 

“Listen.. Bumper.. Bumper,” Donald put a hand on the older boy's shoulder and he smiled up at him. “If you weren't such an inconsiderate, egotistical, idiotic, cocky, big-headed, piece of trash who only thinks about sex and yourself, then maybe we would work.” He shook his head. “But you are, and we don't, so this isn't going to happen. It's never going to work. Ever.”

 

Bumper opened his mouth to say something, but the ravenette just lifted a finger to put it to the singer's lips. “Shh, no. No.. no, no.” He patted Bumper's cheek and turned, picking up his phone and stuffing it into his pants. “I'll see you at practice. _Buddy_.”

 

***

 

Jesse dragged himself down the sidewalk, toward the auditorium where their first practice was supposed to be held. He felt like shit. His head hurt, he was absolutely exhausted, but most of all, his feelings were hurt. He honestly thought Donald was nice. That boy wore his _jacket_. That was totally on purpose. Flirting on purpose, and he brought Jesse back to the Treble house, and.. “The least he could have done was return the favor,” Jesse grumbled. He hadn't told Benji, simply because the boy was still asleep and had been last night when Jesse got back. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to tell Benji. Was that something you told your roommate? Was that even something you told your friend? Maybe your best friend, but probably not your friend that you'd known for two weeks.

 

He walked up the small set of stairs to the double doors and pushed one open. Most of the Trebles were already there, but there were a few missing. Actually, two were missing. The two that Jesse really didn't want to see today. He heard the clang of the door shut behind him and it drew him out of his thoughts, making his eyes snap down to the stage.

 

“Ey, Jesse!” Someone shouted, and he recognized them as.. fuck, what was his name..? _Unicycle._ Right, right. Well, at least everyone called him Unicycle, despite the fact that it most likely wasn't his real name.

 

Jesse offered up a small smile, lifting his hand to wave just a little. “Hey,” he put it back into his pocket and sighed, walking down the small ramp toward the stage. “Uh.. where's Bumper? It's nine, shouldn't he be here?”

 

Greg rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Bumper's never here on time. Give him a few minutes, he'll get here. Hungover, no doubt.”

 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jesse hopped up onto the edge of the stage and laid back, turning his head so his cheek rested against the cold surface. “He's the leader, though. He should be here first.”

 

Steven laughed, actually laughed and tapped the stage a few times. “Be here. First. Leader. Hah, no.” He shook his head. “That's actually pretty funny. He's one of the worst people I've ever had the displeasure to interact with.”

 

“Seriously? I mean.. sure, he doesn't seem like a very cool person, but he can't be that bad.” Jesse looked around briefly at the expressions he was given, clearly saying ' _really?_ ', and he let out a slow exhale, hands moving to rest on his stomach. “Wow.. that bad?”

 

A unanimous nod came from the Trebles and the new member had to shake his head in disbelief. “Why is he the leader then? If he's such a douche?” He sat back up and tucked his legs up crisscross, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand.

 

A few of them shrugged their shoulders. Greg picked up his water bottle and uncapped it, taking a sip before he set it down on the chair next to him. “Because he's a senior and apparently that makes him superior to everyone.” He looked up and shrugged again, shaking his head slightly for emphasis.

 

“So.. because he's a senior.. everyone has to--”

 

He cut himself off when the doors at the top of the auditorium opened up with a crash. Two people stepped in, one clearly more awake than the other, and started down the ramp. “Whassup, Trebles?!” A loud voice boomed, the person throwing their arms up in the air.

 

A collective, “Hi, Bumper..” came from the Trebles and they all stood up. Jesse stood up as well, looking around at everyone as they started forming a circle. He looked over to where Bumper was walking up the stairs to the stage, Donald trailing right behind him.

 

Donald.

 

Shit.

 

Jesse looked away, choosing instead to walk over to the circle, taking a spot next to Greg who was smirking at someone across the circle, mouthing a few words that Jesse couldn't distinguish. He tried following his line of vision, but he only ended up looking between two people. Honestly, he'd care more if his head didn't hurt and his thoughts weren't focused on a particularly tired-looking boy who was walking toward the circle, taking a spot next to Hat.

 

“Okie dokies, Trebles. It's that time again. Time for you untalented, waste of time, tedious, losers to learn yet _another_ song that you won't do justice in front of a panel of judges,” Bumper said with crossed arms as he pushed his way into the circle.

 

Donald sighed and rubbed over his eyes, the lights of the auditorium not helping the headache that seemed to place itself just behind his right eye and stretch itself all the way around to the back of his head. “Bumper, stop being yourself.” He held up a hand shaking his head. “Oh, sorry, sorry. I meant dick, but it just came out as what I was actually thinking. Oops.”

 

Jesse snickered quietly, then schooled his features into neutrality once again. No, Donald definitely wasn't funny. Not funny at all. He crossed his arms, choosing instead to watch Greg speak silently to someone else. Whatever he was saying, it wasn't exactly appropriate, considering the amount of _fuck_ s, _sexy_ s, and the one _can't wait_ at the end that were said.

 

“Donald, Donald,” Bumper held up a finger, then put it to his lips. “Shh.. Bumper's talking. So, the song has been decided by me, considering all of your music tastes are terrible. Besides Donald.” He looked over to the boy who was yawning and gave him a wink. “I have chosen..” he looked at them for a few moments, and when no one moved, he raised an eyebrow. “Uh, drum roll?”

 

They all immediately jumped to tap their hands against their chests, effectively making a sound similar to a drum rolling, as if the announcement was really enough deserve one.

 

“Right Round!” Bumper declared, arms moving out to his sides. “I know! Wonderful song choice, Bumper, amazing job, that's perfect to feature you.”

 

Donald raised a hand. “Ey, Bumper. How about you aren't the center for once?”

 

Bumper shook his head, then moved to shake it quicker. Quick enough that his cheeks slapped against his teeth to make noise. “No, no, that's not an option.” He gestured to himself, eyes falling shut and tilting his head back. “I am Bumper, and I am the center. That's how it is, that's how it's always been. Always going to be.”

 

“Until someone else does it.”

 

“Donald, no.”

 

“Bumper.”

 

Sighing heavily, Jesse lifted his hands to scrub over his eyes. Jesus, could this group of people be any more fucked up? The Treblemakers were supposed to be cool. They were supposed to be what everyone wanted to be. They were supposed to be leaders, examples.. but instead they were a bunch of pretentious assholes. Well.. alright, Bumper was a pretentious asshole. But considering the fact that he represented the Trebles, no one should really want to be here. Was this one of those, _you audition and make it and then you're here forever_ kind of things?

 

“Alrighty. So this is how this thing is going to go. Donald, my boy over here--”

 

“Not your boy.”

 

“--will be featured as the main vocalist. Unicycle, you'll be using your not-as-impressive-as-Donald beat-boxing skills. I will be backing up my boy--”

 

“Still not your boy.”

 

“--on harmony, because I can, and I should, so I will. If any of you have any disagreements, please don't ever speak them because I'm always correct.”

 

Donald let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes briefly before he opened them and tilted his head to the side. “Bumper,” he started. “I really don't think you should be a feature.”

 

Bumper slowly turned on his heels, hands held out in front of him. He had an expression on his face that clearly said-- “Aca-scuse me? Babe.. Babe.. Donny.. You're tired. You don't know what you're saying.”

 

“Nah, I'm pretty sure I do--”

 

“You don't, you're confused--”

 

“Not confused, I know what I'm saying. I think someone else should get to solo.” He put his hands on his hips. “I think Jesse should solo.”

 

Bumper scoffed, stepping back slightly before he turned around to look at Jesse, who was clearly just as shocked as everyone else.

 

“Jesse? _Jesse?_ What the actual _fuck,_ Donald? He's a newbie. He's untalented, lazy, stupid..” Bumper counted off on his fingers. He was pacing around the circle, stopping in front of the new member. “Do you think you deserve a solo? Don't answer that, because you don't, so unless you say no, then don't open your mouth.”

 

Jesse shook his head furiously, uncrossing his arms to let his hands fall down to his sides. “I.. I mean.. I'd like one but like.. I don't.. Like..”

 

Bumper's lips curled up into a snarl. “ _Like, like, like_ ,” he mocked, reaching up to shove at Jesse's shoulders. “You're lucky we decided not to haze you newbies this year. You'd learn to shut your fucking mouth.”

 

“Bumper, quit..” Greg mumbled, and Bumper spun around to face him, glaring.

 

“ _What?_ Everyone should know. Bumper solos. No one. But Bumper. Solos. Unless it's Donald.” He walked across to stand in front of Greg. “Do you have something so say about that? Because _clearly,_ ” he gestured around the circle. “it's a popular and shared opinion.”

 

Greg shifted from his right foot to his left briefly, and then sighed quietly. “It's just..” He shrugged. “You're kind of a dick.”

 

Bumper's eyebrows shot up. “I'm a _what_ now?” He scoffed, stepping forward. “And just who the fuck do you think you are, _Greg?_ ” He hissed. “No one calls me that. _No one_.”

 

“Donald does,” Michael piped up.

 

“ _That,”_ Bumper started. “is because he's Donald. Donald can do anything he wants. Donald is Donald, and Donald is special.”

 

Donald crossed his arms. “I shouldn't be. If your sorry ass wasn't so intent on getting me to sleep with you, I would be treated just like everyone else.”

 

“Listen, Bumper.. you're cool, man, but you just act like you're--”

 

Bumper turned around again and shot a hand out to grab onto Steven's jacket. “Would you like to finish that statement?” He tugged him forward, staring right at the boy who had wide eyes. “Because I'm pretty sure you're not that stupid.”

 

Steven swallowed thickly, then took a deep breath. “Bumper.. someone has to tell you what everyone's thinking. And--”

 

“And what? It's gonna be you?” Bumper gave the boy a shake and scoffed, letting his jacket go to push his shoulders instead. “I'm surprised you even know how to use that mouth for reasons other than to suck cock.”

 

“Bumper!” Donald started over, ready to grab Bumper's shirt and try to pull him away and hopefully talk some sense into him. He got about halfway toward the senior before he stopped himself. He was hungover. He was tired. And he hated Bumper.. so.. all signs pointed to him not trying to interfere. But he liked Steven, and Steven was tiny, and he really couldn't defend himself.

 

Greg clenched his teeth, fists balling up by his sides, but he made no other move toward the pair.

 

Steven nodded his head. “Yeah.. I'm going to tell you. The way you treat people isn't right.. you're mean.. it's like you know what you're doing and you do it on purpose--”

 

“Oh, _God,_ here we go.” Bumper pushed him again, rolling his eyes. “I'm so mean, I'm so terrible, I'm this, I'm that. News flash, sunshine.” Steven flinched at the name. “This isn't high school. This shit is real life, and people are gonna be shitheads. And it just seems like I'm one of 'em you have to deal with. So get over it.”

 

Leaning forward, Bumper flicked Steven's hair up, swiping at the side of his head. “If you want me to act like a school yard bully, I can totally do that. I can totally just beat your ass.” Steven tried swatting his hands away, taking a step back when Bumper stepped toward him again.

 

“Stop, Bumper! You're being an ass!” he insisted, hitting the senior's arm once. That little action earned him a hand on his upper arm, clamping down on his small bicep.

 

“I'm being an ass? You're the one making an ass of yourself, speaking up when you clearly shouldn't be.”

 

Greg took a hesitant step forward, biting his bottom lip briefly. He wasn't sure if saying something would help or hinder the situation, but he couldn't just let this happen again. It'd happened last year, at the beginning of the season, and Bumper had done the exact same thing to one of the seniors from last year. The two of them had been pussies anyway, so it wasn't like the boy did anything impressive.

 

Steven rolled his eyes and wiggled out of the senior's grasp, moving to walk away. “Can we just start practice, please? I'd like to get done before Regionals, thank you very much.” He started over toward where he'd been sitting before Bumper had decided to make his grand entrance.

 

However, said senior didn't seem to be finished with the conversation. “Hey! I'm talkin' to you, _pillow-biter._ Did I tell you that you could walk away?” He stalked over quickly, making fast work of grabbing Steven's arm and dragging him around to face him once again.

 

“God, how many homophobic names can you fucking throw at him?” Jesse insisted, gesturing slightly to the boy who was looking down at the ground with red cheeks and a puffing chest.

 

Bumper smirked. “Well.. I've got quite a few up my sleeve. Queer, Toe-Toucher, Fruitcake..” he counted off on his fingers. “Sunshine, but I've already used that one. Fag is always a--”

 

Steven's eyes snapped up to meet the senior's and he let out the breath he'd been holding, words coming out in a jumbled heap. “At least I don't have to guilt and bribe people into fucking around with me!” He pushed Bumper's shoulder the best that he could, which wasn't much, he had to admit. “And at least I can hold onto a boyfriend while you're chasing after someone who doesn't want anything to do with you! Donald. Will never. Want you. You _asshat._ ”

 

Bumper snarled, surging forward and wrapping his arms around the small boy's middle in a football tackle, effectively taking him down to the floor. As soon as Steven's back collided with the stage, he let out a coughing breath and whimpered, eyes clenching shut.

 

“Shit!” Kolio cried, hands coming up to clutch at the brim of his fedora.

 

Jesse stepped back, mouth dropped open in a shocked 'o' shape. He looked around the circle, where everyone was just kind of watching, but Hat was whispering to Unicycle, “Figures.. the group's about due for watching Bumper get his ass handed to him.”

 

He quickly walked over to the other side of the circle, stopping behind the boy with the disheveled black hair and silver earrings. Reaching out, Jesse wrapped his fingers around the Indian boy's wrist and pulled him a little, getting him to look at him. “What's going on?”

 

Donald looked back to where Bumper had Steven underneath him, cheek pressed against the stage floor. The Trebles had seemed to notice that this wasn't as innocent as it had seemed at first and Michael was already stepping up toward Bumper with Greg pushing in front of him. Donald had honestly thought that Bumper was just going to tackle him and that be it, but something had seemed to switch on in the senior's mind, and he was throwing punches at the small boy underneath him.

 

“Bumper's a chihuahua that thinks it's a German shepherd..” He mumbled, backing away from the circle. His brown eyes watched nervously as Greg pounced onto Bumper, hands wrapping around his neck from behind to tug him backwards, making the boy land on his back on the floor. He knelt down next to Steven and put his hands under the boy's arms, pulling him gently to his feet.

 

The blue eyed boy placed one hand on Steven's cheek, the other holding onto his waist as he tilted his face back and forth. Bloody lip, and a sensitive temple that'd bruise later, but nothing else. Lucky for Bumper. If he'd left any serious mark on his boy, Greg would have to get after him.

 

Jesse's eyes flickered over to Greg murmuring softly as he wiped Steven's lip with a tissue, Bumper nowhere in sight. Michael and Brian had disappeared as well, and he assumed that they were with the leader. “So..” he mumbled, looking over at the dark-skinned boy with his eyebrows raised slightly. “About last night..”

 

Donald whipped his head over to stare at Jesse, dumbfounded and clearly taken aback. “What? No. No, no, no, no, no. We don't talk about that. That's not like.. that's not..” he sighed heavily, lifting a hand to gesture between them. “Don't act like this is a thing. It wasn't a thing, wasn't ever going to be a thing, and never will be a thing. Just because you sucked my cock, that—that doesn't mean we're together or anything.”

 

The freshman stared at him for a few moments, parting his lips to say something, but no words seemed to be enough. “..what?” he whispered, shaking his head slightly. “I don't get it. You--”

 

“I _what?_ What the _fuck_ did I do to make you think that this was going to be anything? I even kicked you out, Jess, I thought that'd be enough for you to get the hint. I don't do relationships. I don't like them, personally,” he put his hands on his own chest, eyebrows shooting up. “But if you want a relationship, take it as far-the-fuck-away from me you can. Because I'm not like that.”

 

He reached down, picking up the water bottle sitting on the chair. Unscrewing the cap, he popped the Tylenol that'd been resting in his pocket all morning into his mouth, desperately needing something to cool down the raging pounding that was resounding through his head. “God, Jesse, you're such a fucking headache.”

 

Jesse stared at him for longer than he probably should have, coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn't get anything moderately resembling the reaction he wanted from the junior in front of him. He just nodded his head and turned around, starting toward the steps of the stage. He was going back ot bed. This wasn't worth sticking around.

 

***

 

Benji inhaled sharply, head shooting up from where it was resting atop his desk. “Yes?” He called out, looking up at the ceiling. “Am I being called, Luke?”

 

“Benji, open the fucking door. I'm pissed off, depressed, and I want to lay in bed and eat popcorn.”

 

Standing up from the chair, Benji hurried over to the door and unlocked it, taking note of the fact that Jesse's key was sitting on the headboard of his bed next to the lamp. He pulled the door open, stepping aside so Jesse could come in. “Hey.. what are you doing here? It's..” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Only nine-thirty. Trebles practice goes until eleven.”

 

Jesse looked at him, expression showing nothing but frustration despair. “Trebles practice is dumb.” He kicked his shoes off and walked over to the little table that had a white microwave sitting on it. A little basket beside it held various bags of popcorn, all Jesse's doing. _I eat a lot of popcorn, man. Just warning you._ He picked one up, deciding on kettle corn because he needed something sweet before he devoured the salty, movie-theater-butter variety.

 

“Dumb?”

 

“Yeah. Dumb.” Jesse tossed the plastic wrapper that had previously been around the popcorn into the trash can after a brief struggle with getting the cellophane off of his hand. “And by the way, you have a paper stuck to your cheek.”

 

Benji's hand shot up to his face, indeed finding white, notebook paper stuck to his face. “Oh.. thanks. That's part of my essay.”

 

“No problem,” Jesse mumbled, walking over to his bed. He sat down, rolling onto his stomach. He had his head at the foot of the bed, his feet resting on his pillow. “You know.. I sometimes wonder if I'm the problem.” He laid his head down on his arms after folding them. “Am I the _problem,_ Benji?”

 

The other freshman sat down on his chair, biting his bottom lip slightly. “Uh.. no?”

 

“Well if I'm not the problem, then why is Donald being a dick?” Jesse pulled his laptop over and flipped it open, typing in his password quickly. “I mean, so maybe I gave him a blow when I was drunk last night. But afterwards, he totally just kicked me out. He kicked me out, Benji. What did I do? He came and everything. He came, and it was good for him, and then he just left. I had to jerk myself before I went to sleep just thinking about the way his lips looked when--”

 

“Oh my god, Jesse. I know we're friends and everything.. but is this normal? Talking about this kind of stuff?” Benji pulled his legs up to sit crisscross on the swiveling chair.

 

Jesse sighed and laid his head back down, not bothering with looking up a movie to watch. It's just be depressing and sad anyway. “Maybe it's not, but I'm going to talk about it anyway. I don't understand.” He looked over as the microwave beeped and he sighed again, standing up and walking over. “I figured he would at least want to talk about it.” He grabbed a bowl and tugged open the popcorn, shaking it out before throwing the bag away.

 

“I thought maybe he only did it because he was drunk. Everyone's different when they're drunk, anyway, so I thought he'd just apologize today, or talk about it, or something. But no, nothing. Not a single thing. He just..” Jesse shoved a handful of the popped, fluffy kernels into his mouth, chewing lightly. “..he told me that we weren't a thing. Never would be a thing, and he called me a headache.”

 

Benji frowned, crossing his hands in his lap. “That's rough.. I'm sorry. But hey, he couldn't be that wonderful, right? If he decides that he doesn't want a great guy like you.”

 

Jesse offered up a tiny, not-so-genuine smile. “Thanks, Benj. But I still think he's cute and funny and nice under all the.. under the front that he puts up. It's like the outside doesn't care, but the inside does. He wants someone to love him, to be there for him, to care about him, but he doesn't want to be the person to ask for it. He doesn't want to tell people that he isn't okay.”

 

“Or.. maybe he's just an asshole.”

 

“Nah, that's not it. It's definitely a deeper meaning,” Jesse said around a mouthful of popcorn. He pushed his earphones in and plugged them into the laptop. “Mind putting in another bag for me? Movie-theater-butter this time. Imma watch some sad movies while I wallow alone in my self-pity and despair.”

 

***

 

“Bumper's the worst. He's the worst of the worst. The worst, of the worst, of the worst.”

 

Steven let out a quiet breath, tucking his legs up underneath him. He tilted his head back when gentle fingers cupped his jaw, urging him to move it up so Greg could see properly. “Everyone knows how Bumper gets,” he mumbled, wincing slightly when the little alcohol wipe glided over the corner of his split lip. “I should have just kept quiet. I mean, I said something I shouldn't have.”

 

Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure. That's totally an excuse to tackle you like you've got a football made of gold and one-hundred dollar bills.” He put a little dab of Neosporin on the boy's lip and pulled his hands back, settling them where Steven's rested. The boys fingers were laced together on top of his ankles that were crossed over each other as he sat Indian style. “Did he get you anywhere else? Your ribs okay? Your head? You sure you aren't dizzy?”

 

“Greg,” Steven smiled, giving the boy's hand a squeeze. “I promise, I'm good. Lip just hurts a little. You really should kiss it better.”

 

“I refuse to give in to your cliched, movie fantasies, Steven,” Greg insisted, leaning in to nose at the boy's soft cheek. “This isn't Titanic.”

 

Steven pulled back with raised eyebrows. “Titanic isn't anything like this. I'm pretty sure one of us isn't a street rat moving from city to city just trying to get by while the other is rich and engaged, just praying to get out of whatever their mother has dragged them into by force.” He gave Greg's hand another squeeze, but this time a little harder. “Although, fucking in the back of a car is totally up for discussion.”

 

Greg laughed, letting his head fall back slightly, his blue eyes closing for just a moment. “And just where do you propose we do that, hm?”

 

“The Treble bus is just outside. I don't see why we couldn't.” Steven leaned in, giving the blue-eyed boy a little Eskimo kiss.

 

The blonde boy pulled back to look at Steven with a smirk on his lips, his expression mixed between interest and curiosity. “Really, now? You're not kidding?”

 

Steven shook his head. “Nope.. not kidding at all. Besides.. seeing you fight for me like that? Pulling Bumper off with your hands like he was nothing?” He pressed his lips to Greg's jaw, slowly moving them closer and closer to the boy's own mouth. “So fucking hot, babe.”

 

Greg sucked in a sharp breath and nodded his head. “Yeah.. so the bus, then?”

 

***

 

Donald curled up under his blankets, head resting heavily on his pillow; heavier than it had in a while. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he let it out, it washed over the wall that was just in front of him, bouncing back against his face. It was comforting.. he could imagine someone else there with him, at least. Someone with brown eyes, slightly tanned skin and a beautiful, chocolate-smooth voice. If he concentrated hard enough, he could at least pretend that Jesse's hand was on his hip or the pillow beneath his head was a firm chest with a beating heart inside.

  
The door of his bedroom opened, someone stepping in quietly before they shut it. Donald couldn't bother himself enough to turn over and look, so he chose to instead keep his eyes closed. Smooth lips and strong muscles flitted behind his eyelids, showing him just what he was too scared to admit he wanted.

 

“Donny?” a quiet voice whispered. Shoes clunked on the floor as they were kicked off and discarded beside the rug.

 

“Hm?” Donald hummed quietly, absentmindedly scooting closer to the wall so the person could have room to settle in behind him.

 

Someone pulled back the blankets and scooted inside, matching the warmth and adding to it as the covers closed once again. A strong arm wrapped itself around his waist, a hand splaying across his flat stomach. He was gently pulled back into a too-familiar chest and a chin settled onto his shoulder, lips dangerously close to his skin.

 

Donald was still for a few moments, thoughts mulling over in his mind. He eventually decided, rolling over without even opening his eyes. The dark-skinned boy settled in against the warm, comfortable chest, hand pressed against a firm pec with his ear resting over the other. He could hear the steady beating of Bumper's heart, pulsing and reminding Donald that he was a real person who could hold him, tell him it would be okay, even if it wasn't.

 

Bumper pressed his hand against Donald's back, slowly gliding it up and down, feeling the dip of his spine. He let Donald rest his head on his chest, choosing to lay his own half on the pillow, half on the ravenette's head. His hair was soft, fluffy, and it smelled sweetly of the shampoo that he used. Something like apples, he was sure. Or.. a beach, whichever one. One or the other.

 

He gently kissed the top of the beat-box's head, nuzzling into the soft quaff and inhaling slowly. “Are you angry?”

 

Donald didn't know what to do besides shrug his shoulders. Yeah, he was angry. He was angry because Steven didn't deserve that. He was sweet, too sweet really for most people. He was quiet, shy, didn't do anything to get on people's nerves or get in the way. He was angry because Bumper lost his temper too often. He was angry because Bumper didn't think before he acted. And he was angry because he'd been the biggest asshole to Jesse who really didn't do anything wrong. He didn't do a single thing wrong, and the only thing Donald had done was snap at him and call him a headache. The only reason he'd said that was because his head had been pounding and he didn't feel well and he was pissed off. Someone had to be there for him to be rude to, and Jesse was unfortunate enough to be standing next to him.

 

He also wasn't angry. He wasn't angry because Steven really jumped to some conclusions.. right? Whatever. He wasn't angry because Bumper had been doing really well with his temper lately.. right? Whatever. He wasn't angry because Jesse had been the one to assume things were happening when they weren't and that was ridiculous.. right?

 

_Whatever._

 

Bumper scooted closer and wrapped his arms tighter around the boy's body, their legs moving to tangle together under the blankets. He stroked up and down Donald's side, feeling the slight dip there as he did so. He watched the slow rise and fall of the boy's shoulders, his eyes raking over his form possessively.

 

Donald had to admit, this was what he really wanted.

 

He wanted someone to hold him. He wanted strong arms cradling him, a smooth voice whispering quietly as they did so. He wanted gentle hands, sure touches, sweet words and hot breath on his skin that actually meant something. Bumper couldn't give him any of that, but he could make Donald feel like he did, at least. Maybe it wasn't genuine, but it was enough for Donald to pretend.

 

Bumper's lips kissed his forehead once, then his temple twice, his cheek once and just in front of his ear a few more times than is considered okay for friends with benefits. Is that what they were? Were they friends with benefits, or were they exes? The more he thought about it, the more it hurt, so he chose to ignore the thoughts that wanted to push into the forefront of his mind.

 

“Do you want me to leave?”

 

Donald shook his head. He didn't make any noise, but he slipped his arm underneath Bumper's and gently placed his hand between the senior's shoulder blades. The last thing he wanted was for Bumper to leave him. The last person he wanted here was Bumper, but at least he was another human body. The chest was firm enough that he could pretend it was Jesse's. The arms weren't strong enough, but the shoulders were broad enough that he could pretend they were Jesse's. The voice wasn't smooth enough, but the heartbeat was steady enough that he could pretend it was Jesse's.

 

Bumper reached his other hand up, gently smoothing his fingers through Donald's hair. He kept his eyes closed, simply relishing in the feeling of his favorite boy in his arms once again. This was how it was supposed to be. Donald was supposed to come to him every night. Sleep in his bed, kiss his lips, be with him.

 

“Will you sing for me?” Donald whispered quietly, nuzzling into Bumper's neck. He wished he smelled of sweet cologne and popcorn. Like Jesse.

 

Nodding his head, Bumper brought the blankets around them a little tighter and softly started to hum along with a quiet tune.

 

“ _Carry on my wayward son..”_

 

 

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Check out the photoset for this chapter [here](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/57346825251/donald-whipped-his-head-over-to-stare-at-jesse).


	3. Chapter 3

Donald stirred, brown eyes fluttering open briefly before falling closed once again. He didn't remember falling asleep; how long had he been out? What time was it? The junior tried sitting up, but someone was laying half on them with their hand on his waist. Turning his head to the side, he saw Bumper laying next to him.

 

Letting out a quiet breath, Donald laid his head back down onto Bumper's chest, looking up at him while he slept. Was Bumper really that bad? Sure he had a shitty temper that he lost too often, and his personality wasn't the best. But he had the right intentions sometimes, and that's sort of what mattered. Right? Sure.

 

He lifted a gentle hand, pressing it lightly against the side of the senior's head. His fingertips danced along soft hairs, pushing them away from where they'd fallen out of place. The darker skinned boy moved his hand to the pillow behind Bumper's head instead, scooting his body closer so he could lay his head on Bumper's shoulder.

 

The boy above him stirred, yawning loudly as his arms stretched above his head. Bumper clenched his eyes shut, letting his head fall back down to the pillow once he was finished. He slung his arm over Donald's waist once again, pulling him in tight. “Morning, babe.”

 

Donald tensed slightly before he forced himself to relax and instead moved his hand up to slowly run through Bumper's hair. “Morning,” he whispered.

 

Bumper bussed a kiss across Donald's cheek, keeping his hand low on the beat-box's back. Slowly, it started to slide down, and Donald wished he could tell Bumper to stop. Although, that was like poking the bear, and he'd learned his lesson once. “Did you have sweet dreams?” The senior murmured, slowly swiping his hand up and down Donald's spine.

 

Nodding, despite the fact that Donald had a dream about Jesse and that was anything but sweet. That would explain why he woke up with a bitter taste in his mouth. “Mhm. They were alright.”

 

“ _Jess, stop!”_ _Donald insisted, swatting at Jesse's shoulder. He picked up the piece of popcorn that landed near his knee. “If you're gonna throw popcorn at me, at least have better aim.”_

 

_The freshman crawled over, picking the kernel out of Donald's hand before he popped it in his mouth.”Maybe you should just move so it lands in your mouth then, if you're so intent on catching it.” He smiled, placing his hands on the Indian boy's ankles._

 

_Rolling his eyes, Donald gently let his hands skim up and down Jesse's forearms, catching a little on the sleeves of his sweater. “I don't know why you insist on sitting not underneath blankets, without heat on in here, eating popcorn and staring at a paused movie on the screen. I'm fucking freezing over here.”_

 

_Jesse sat back a little and raised his eyebrows, looking over at the laptop. He reached behind him, grabbing a thick, blue and white checkered blanket. He pulled the top of it down and moved backward until his back was pressed against one of the pillows._

 

“ _If you were cold, why didn't you just say so?” He patted the spot beside him. “Come on up. I won't bite unless you want me to.”_

 

_Donald felt the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile and he moved onto all fours, crawling to the top of the bed to sit himself beside the brunette. “I bet you'd love to, wouldn't you?”_

 

_Jesse put his hand over his heart, faking a gasp. “Why.. Donald. How could you think such a thing? That's so unbecoming. I'd never bite someone. Unless that someone requested of me.”_

 

“ _Jess, you aren't in a 1500s romance that Shakespeare wrote.”_

 

“ _Alas! Tis be where thee is incorrect. Thine's delation beith both mad as well as taxing.”_

 

_Donald smiled. “I understood not a word of that, young knave.”_

 

_The freshman couldn't hold in the chuckle rising up his throat and he had to shake his head, covering his mouth briefly with a large hand. “I think you're going to do just fine in your Literature class next semester.”_

 

_Leaning in, Donald briefly kissed at Jesse's cheek and he tilted his head to the side. “Only because you're going to help me study.”_

 

“I'm gonna go shower.. I've got an errand to run.” Donald gently pushed the blankets from his body, a chill rushing through him that made goosebumps rise up on his dark skin. “I'll be back sometime.”

 

Bumper furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey.. where ya goin', anyway?”

 

Donald shrugged his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could. “Just to grab a charger for my phone. The other one broke.. you know. Gotta have a charger.”

 

“You didn't break it.. I used it yesterday, remember?”

 

“Yeah, you broke my charger, remember that, I do, therefore I have to get a new one, off to shower.” Donald grabbed a spare set of clothes and tugged the door open as quickly as he could, slamming it shut behind him. He turned toward the other end of the hall, trying to crane his neck to see if someone was in the upstairs bathroom before he just went and bolted down there. Making an ass of himself wasn't exactly what he wanted.

 

He saw that the door was open, and his feet immediately set into a brisk walk down the carpeted hallway. “Yaaas, open door,” He whispered to himself. When he heard nothing, he remembered that he was the only one in the hall. “Jesse totally would have laughed at that.”

 

“Love you.”

 

“Love you, too. Hey, did you remember to set the alarm?”

 

“Oh. I was supposed to.”

 

“You know, sometimes I wonder what the capacity of your brain is.”

 

“Enough to hold thoughts of you.”

 

“That's disgustingly cheesy and you know it.”

 

“But you're smiling anyway.”

 

Too giggly, too-sweet, too-sappy, too- _in-love_ voices floated from Steven and Greg's shared room. Donald actually was close to gagging and he couldn't help but put a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise. He'd tell them to get a room if they weren't already in one. Was this considered eavesdropping? He was pretty sure that this was considered eavesdropping. But.. does it count if you heard it all accidentally?

 

He pushed himself past their door and rolled his eyes. Stupid people with their stupid relationships and their stupid happiness. He didn't need happiness. Who needed that? Stupid people.

 

Donald stepped inside the bathroom and shut the door behind him, closing his eyes for a few moments. What was he even doing? Was he making the right choice, doing all of this with Bumper? Well, doing it with Bumper _again_?

 

“Pretty sure I learned my lesson the first time.” He grumbled to himself, stripping down and flicking the hot water on. He debated taking a cold shower, but he was sure that he couldn't scrub the _Bumper_ off of his skin with cold water.

 

He slipped inside and shut the glass door behind him, just leaning back against the wall for a few minutes, watching as his dark skin turned slightly pink the longer his stood there.

 

***

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Jesse, get up. It's ten-thirty.”

 

“Fuck off, Benji. I'm still sleepy and depressed.”

 

Benji rolled his eyes. He pushed at Jesse's shoulders, effectively bouncing him up and down on the mattress. “Jesse. Dude, seriously, you really need to wake up. If you sleep too long now, you won't sleep tonight, and you have class tomorrow morning. Besides,” Benji offered a smile. “I made more popcorn!”

 

Jesse pouted briefly, sat himself up, and shoved a hand into the bowl of yellow, salty puffs. “I'm still depressed,” he grumbled through a mouthful of kernels.

 

The curly haired boy raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “Is the pout really necessary, Jess?”

 

Jesse's ears perked up a little, then he lowered his shoulders in disappointment. “Benj?” He asked quietly, biting his bottom lip and wringing his hands together in his lap. “Could you not call me that?” he took in a deep breath and then let it out quietly. “I just.. Donald calls me that. I don't really know where we are right now and I'd rather not think about it.

 

“Anything you need to talk about?” Benji questioned, seating himself in the desk chair.

 

“Nah. I think it'd be best if I just.. ignore it until it goes away or fixes itself. Then that way, it'll totally work out like all the movies and I'll get the guy and we'll be together forever and we'll have some make out session in the rain.”

 

“Do you seriously think that it's gonna work out like that?”

 

“I fuckin' hope so.”

 

***

 

Donald's shoes made soft noises on the carpet of the dorm room hallway as he scuffled along, hands in his pockets. He was such a douche bag. Could he just be nice to one person? Really?

 

He managed to glance up at the numbers on the doors occasionally as he went by, but he really didn't pay much attention. When he got to the middle of the hallway and realized that it should probably be somewhere around where he was, he stopped, spun in a circle, and was met with the glaring numbers on the wooden door.

 

Slowly, he lifted his hand to knock.

 

Okay, so maybe he thought about turning around and running away to hide back in his room. And it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he shook his shoulders and arms out in anxiousness when no one answered the door.

 

He lifted his hand to knock one more time, and again got no answer. Taking a deep breath, he tried making his voice sound as confident as possible. “Jesse?”

 

Nothing.

 

“I know you're in there.” _Knock knock knock knock._ “I can smell popcorn.” _Knock knock knock. “_ C'mon, Jess, open up.” _Knock knock knock knock. “_ I'm gonna keep knocking until you answer the door.”

 

Nothing.

 

_Knock._ “Jesse.”  _Knock_ . “Jassey.”  _Knock_ . “Jess _ay_ .”  _Knock_ . “Jess-Jess.”  _Knock_ . “ _Jeeeeeessssss_ .”

 

“Fucking, what?”

 

Donald smiled a little, tapping his fist one more time on the now open door. “Jesse,” he whispered, then retracted his hand.

 

“I'm not smiling at you. You don't deserve my smiles.” Jesse crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, turning his nose up. “Besides. You've got better things to do, I'm sure.”

  
Quirking up an eyebrow, Donald puffed out his cheeks. He put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot once, just for good measure. “And just  _what_ kind of better things do you have in mind, sir? Because I can assure you that nothing is better than standing here and looking at your pretty little face.”

 

Jesse bit his bottom lip, then pressed them together in a tight line. He swayed back and forth on his feet briefly, then failed to fight back the smile. “You think it's pretty?”

 

Chuckling, Donald relinquished the un-manly stance that he adorned and put one hand on the door frame next to Jesse's head. “Yeah. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, babes.”

 

“Babes. You called. Me..” Jesse bent his knees a little, then popped back up. “..a pet name. Oh my god. We're there. We're at that level. What do you want me to call you? I've been thinking of a few things. Poppy-seed is always cute because, like, who uses that? We'd totally be the only ones. Babycakes is popular in Great Britain, and I mean, who wouldn't want that? Love muffin. I'm totally going with love muffin.”

 

The dark-skinned boy stood still, lips parted slightly in an 'o', eyebrows raised, one finger held up. “I.. I-I don't..” He puffed his cheeks out and blew out a breath, putting his hands back on his hips. “Uh.. no. Yeah, no.”

 

“Whatever you say.” Jesse shrugged his shoulders, then pushed the door open a little further, stepping aside so Donald could get in. “Love muffin.”

 

Walking in, Donald kicked his shoes off and shrugged his jacket off as well. He flopped down onto the bed, settling with his stomach pressed to the comforter and his legs kicked up behind him. He patted the spot next to him like an offering for the freshman. “C'mon. I wanna talk to you.”

 

Jesse shut the door, then glanced over at Benji, who had his headphones on, playing some type of online, multiplayer game on his laptop. He had a little sword in his hands and a mouthpiece on as well, quietly speaking orders and commands into the small piece of sponge in front of his lips.

 

He held up a finger to Donald, then walked quickly over behind his roommate's desk chair. “Ey. Benji.” He tapped him on the shoulder.

 

The bushy-browed boy paused his game, then swiveled around to face him. “Jesse, this is kind of importa--” he glanced over at the bed, then paused, then nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah, yeah, right. Cool. I'll go play in the commons downstairs.” He gathered up his laptop, headset, plastic sword, and charger, piling them all in his arms. He nearly tripped over the dangling computer cord, but regained his balance and turned around to walk backward out the door, occasionally giving nods and little waves.

 

As soon as the door was shut, Jesse sighed quietly. “He really is a good person, but god, he's weird sometimes.” The freshman reached up to ruffle up his already mussed hair, making little strands stick up here and there.

 

Donald rested his head on the blanket, sighing quietly to himself. “You know.. I really don't understand.”

 

Jesse's brows came together and he started toward the bed, sliding onto it and settling next to the Indian boy, albeit on his back instead of on his stomach. “What don't you understand, love muffin?”

 

“Stop with the nickname, Jess. You've used it like twice and I'm already hating you more than I already do.”

 

A little flash of hurt washed over Jesse's features, but he quickly masked it with a roll of his eyes and a smile. “Okay, okay, sorry.”

 

“Anyway,” Donald started, “I don't get how you just.. you keep going. You're never embarrassed when I shoot you down, and you never get upset when Bumper yells at you, and I just don't get it. How?”

 

Jesse shrugged his shoulders. He chewed as his bottom lip as he tried to gather up the jumbled thoughts and words that were scattered around in his brain. He tried forming them into sentences, but it just wasn't working. “I do.”

 

Donald was quiet for a moment before he furrowed his eyebrows and nudged the freshman's elbow with his. “What do you mean? 'You do', that doesn't tell me anything.”

 

“It means I do. I do get embarrassed, and I do get upset. I just don't go letting everyone know how I feel. I come back here, and I cry into the pillow if need be, and I eat a lot of popcorn, then I feel better. I tell myself that the feeling isn't going to last forever. The feeling of embarrassment and terrible-ness and feeling like you're the stupidest person in the world isn't going to last forever. You'll feel like complete shit for a week or two, and then you're fine. You get back up on the metaphorical horse and you're ready to get knocked back off again.” Jesse sighed heavily, then sat up. He started over to the little microwave stand and tugged open a bag of buttery popcorn.

 

“But.. you already made a bag..”

 

“Well, I'm making a-fucking-nother one. Is that okay with you?”

 

Donald winced and blew out a slow breath, puffing out his cheeks a little. He sat up, scooted himself off the bed, and slid his toes into his sneakers. “Right.. yeah, totally cool. I'm just gonna go. I'll.. see you at practice or something tomorrow.”

 

Jesse bit his lip and closed his eyes, setting down the unwrapped bag of popcorn back where it belonged in the little basket with the rest. “No.. don't.. don't leave.”

 

“Jess, you clearly aren't in a good mood, and I'm clearly a part of the reason you aren't. I don't wanna stick around and make it worse.”

 

“You.. You won't make it worse. You make it better.” Jesse pursed his lips and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently reaching forward to wrap his fingers around Donald's wrist. “You always make it better. I like thinking about you when I'm upset or sad because you make me happy. But when I think about the way you feel about me..” he shrugged.

 

Donald furrowed his eyebrows and turned, stepping forward so their knees were brushing, his straight and the freshman's bent. He took hold of Jesse's chin between his index finger and thumb, then tilted his head up. “Jesse.. how do you think I feel about you? Because I can guarantee that the way you think I feel about you isn't the way I actually feel about you. I think.. that you are wonderful. You, Jesse Swanson, are wonderful. And I feel bad.. because I can't give you what you want me to give you.”

 

He shifted his hand to gently rest against the side of Jesse's head, so similar to the way that he let it rest against Bumper's this morning. It made his chest ache.

 

“You want me to give you romance.. and roses, and candles, and cards. You want I love you and I can't do that. I've never been able to do that. But.. I really do want you to find someone who can give that to you. Okay?” He leaned down, kissed Jesse's cheek, sighed against his skin, then pulled back with nothing but disappointment for himself welling up in his throat. “I came over to apologize. I really am sorry, because the way I acted was ridiculous. Nothing I said was true. You deserve so much, Jess.”

 

Donald gave Jesse's hair one last ruffle before tugging his shoes on the rest of the way. He didn't want to look back, because he knew that he'd see the muscular boy's sad, doe eyes, his pout, and the look on his face that just didn't understand.

 

Donald didn't understand either.

 

***

 

_From: Old News 12:15 pm.  
Baby? How long does it take to get a phone charger?_

 

_From: Old News 12: 17  
Okay, you don't have to ignore me._

 

_From: Old News 12:22  
Donny, baby, please just tell me where you are. I won't get mad, sweetie, I promise._

 

Donald clenched his teeth, gripping the iPhone 4 so hard in his hand that he probably was in danger of cracking it. It was a birthday present from his parents. What? He was a broke college student, no matter what group he was in.

 

_**To: Old News 12:26  
On my way back. Didn't have any chargers. Really feeling upset. Make me some coffee?** _

 

_From: Old News 12:28  
Sure thing, sweetheart. Which creamer?_

 

_**To: Old News 12:31  
The kind I always want, dick-lick.** _

 

_From: Old news 12:34  
Okay, okay. Jesus._

 

He swallowed hard, shaking his head as he stepped up onto the front porch of the Treble House. His fingertips tapped lightly against the screen, then hit send.

 

_**To: Babe 12:48** _

_**Sorry.. just in a bad mood.** _

 

***

 

“Is he really..?”  
  


“God, I hope not.”

 

“But it really does seem like it, doesn't it?”

 

“Didn't he just learn his lesson last time?”

 

“Guys, we can't butt in. Bumper will get pissed, and it's not the right thing to do.”

 

“Who gives a fuck if Bumper gets pissed?”

 

“He doesn't deserve to get his heart broken again.”

 

“I feel so bad for him.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Donald turned away from Michael and Unicycle's bedroom door where the entirety of the Trebles aside from himself, Bumper, and the newbies had congregated. “Fuck them,” he hissed under his breath as he stormed down the hall, making a sharp turn down the stairs. His footsteps were loud, and he hoped they alerted the whole house of his presence. Fuck them. He didn't want their pity, or their advice, or their opinion. He wanted to whatever the fuck he wanted without having people act like he couldn't make adequate choices for himself.

 

That's the thing about being an adult. You're supposed to be able to have freedom from people making choices for you. But the only thing that really happens is other people pressuring you into making “your” choices, and they're never really yours. It's always, _“Oh, are you sure you want to do that?” “Wow.. that doesn't sound like a good idea.” “Um.. well alright, but how about this instead?”_

 

“Don, I've got your coffee. If you want it anyway. Why'd you go upstairs?” Bumper handed him the cup and the warmth seeped through his skin and felt like it was wrapping itself around his bones. Like some demented blanket you can buy on QVC at three in the morning when you can't sleep and have a credit card you aren't using.

 

“Because I'm stupid, that's why.” Donald sipped at it, and he found that it was bitter and unpleasant. Jesse probably made good coffee.

 

Bumper frowned, reaching forward to place a hand on the beat-box's hip. “Come on, Donny, don't say that about yourself. You aren't stupid.”

 

“I doubt you really think that. Honestly, Bump.”

 

Sighing heavily, the senior stepped back and flicked off the coffee machine, grabbing Donald's cup and dumping the contents out into the sink.

 

“Hey! I was drinking that!”

 

“Listen. Donald. I don't think you realize how fucking hard I'm trying here. I'm trying to get you back, Don.. why aren't you seeing that? Is it because you don't want to see it?” Bumper shook his head. “I want the relationship with you that we didn't have before. I don't wanna just.. I don't wanna just fuck around, sleep with you, then act like we aren't together. Because I want to be together. I want to give you everything. I want to be the one to h--”

 

“--hold me at night after I wake up from a bad dream, and be there in the morning when I'm still wrapped in your arms. I've heard it before, Bumper. That's exactly what you fucking said last time.”

 

Bumper shook his head again and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I.. I know.. I know and I'm sorry..”

 

The look on his face, the defensive stance, the biting of the lip.. it was everything Bumper always did. But no matter how many times he did it, Donald still managed to swoon over his false apologies and loaded words. “Listen.. just let me think about it, Bump. I'll let you know, okay?”

 

“Whatever you want, Donald.. just don't lead me on.”

 

_Like you know what that's like, Bumper._

 

***

 

Steven groaned as his pen stopped writing, yet again, and he tossed it into the garbage bin. “Fuck my entire life.”

 

He just wanted to finish his essay, honestly. Was that too much to ask? Probably.

 

“What's the matter, man?” Donald plopped himself down on the grey moon-chair that sat next to the sofa.

 

The blonde haired junior frowned, searching in his backpack for another pen. “I just need to finish this paper for History. That's all. But how in the actual fuck am I supposed to be able to write about George Washington's role in the Revolutionary War without a pen?”

 

Donald pursed his lips and reached into the side drawer, pulling his hand out with a blue pen held lightly between his index and middle fingers. He twirled it between them a few times before presenting it like a cherished item. “I hereby present to you, the sacred blue pen of the side table drawer, Treble House, Barden University Campus.”

 

Steven laughed softly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Thanks.” He silently took the pen and clicked it before going back to writing the sentence he was before the other pen decided to be a dick. He stopped in the middle, ending after the words 'George Washington', so really he could have been writing anything.

 

He had managed three more sentences, talking about his horse and their special relationship or whatever (he hated history and wasn't particularly interested in making a good essay, okay?). Finally, he set his pen down and turned toward the boy sitting next to him. “Donald. Why are you staring at me.” It wasn't a question.

 

“Because I need to talk to you.”

 

“And you couldn't have just said that, rather than staring at me creepily for a minute and a half?”

 

“Nah, I couldn't do it any other way.”

 

The small boy shook his head fondly and sighed, setting his book and notebook down on the table in front of him, turning toward Donald and tilting his head to the side. “What do you want, then, Donny-Boy?”

 

The Indian smiled, looking down and shaking his head. “Ha, ha, so funny. Well, I just.. I want to know how you do it.”

 

Steven worried his brow and leaned his shoulder against the back of the couch. “How I do what?”

 

“How you find someone. How you keep someone. How you like.. how you know that person actually cares about you and isn't just there for sex or for something casual. How?” Donald brought his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and ignoring the way his glasses fell down his nose a little.

 

The blonde thought for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “It depends.. on the person, you know? You find someone by chance, really. If you get that same feeling when you're around them.. over and over, like you just want to always be around them, then you know. You want to talk to them and listen to every single thing they have to say. You want to see them in the morning when they just wake up and they haven't fixed their hair or picked out their clothes.”

 

A soft smile had started to grace his pink lips as he spoke, eyes going a bit distant. “You even want to have little arguments over stupid things because that's how you know you really care. Whether they made the bed right or drank your favorite soda when it was in the fridge with a specific note saying that it was yours. But they drank it anyway. You want to.. You want to go places with them, even if it's just to the grocery store. You want to see them do everything and anything.

 

“You don't even think about the sex at first either. But when it comes to that, it feels like the best thing in the world because you really do care about that person. And the way you know that they're really there for you, is when they let you know that they want the same thing from you. They want to see you doing all of that, they want to spend time with you and bicker with you. That's how you know.”

 

Donald slowly nodded his head. Fuck.. how was he supposed to give Bumper another chance when the only person fitting his mold was Jesse?

 

“Talking about me, baby?” Greg poked his head out from behind the door of the fridge, Diet Coke in his hand.

 

Steven shot up off the couch, jumping over the back and starting toward the kitchen in a bit of a run. “That's my Diet Coke! It had my name on it, you douche-dick!”

 

***

 

_'Hey! You've reached Jesse's phone! I couldn't answer right now, but please leave you name, your number, and the reason why you're calling and I'll try to get back to you! Have a good day!'_

 

_**Beep** _

 

“Jess? It's me, Donald.. obviously. You have my name in your phone, you can tell who's calling. Anyway.. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know that I'm flipping back and forth here.. between yes and no. I wish I understood what I'm feeling but I really don't. I'm so conflicted. Because I like you, okay? I like you.. and.. I don't know what to do about that. But Bumper is trying so hard with me right now. I know his personality kind of sucks balls and he isn't the best because his temper is pretty unpredictable but like.. he's hard to understand. A lot of people don't really get him and I know that I shouldn't be thinking like this, but he's trying to be there for me.. it's really strange and I know you probably don't get it because even I don't get it. If there were just some way for me to figure out which one is right. I'm.. I want to give me and you a chance, Jess. I'm gonna try and get some sleep, but I'll see you tomorrow at practice, okay? Goodnight.”

 

Donald tapped the 'end call' icon at the bottom of his screen and sighed softly, laying his head down on the pillow. Just as he'd gotten comfortable, a little  _tap tap tap_ resounded at his door. He sighed heavily, lifting a hand to rub his eyes. “Come in, I guess.”

 

A shadow wiggled it's way into the room and shut the door with a quiet click behind him. The sound of shoes being kicked off and a jacket being shed made noises that seemed louder than they really were in the quiet room. “Don?”

 

Letting out every last bit of air in his lungs, to buy him time or to show his exasperation, he wasn't sure, Donald sat up and shook his head, turning just his upper body toward the figure. “Bump.. no. I'm not gonna do this again. I decided.. I'm.. I wanna give you a shot, but I also don't. Because I already gave you one, you know?”

 

The senior really didn't say anything, choosing instead to just stand. He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but chose not to speak. Bumper just nodded, picked up his jacket, but left his shoes, and grabbed the doorknob to leave.

 

Donald honestly felt bad for him. Really, he just wanted to go out with him. Was that bad? Not really, no. Was his personality and history with people necessarily good? Okay, so no, but that still didn't mean that he wasn't a good person. But they just couldn't work. Bumper knew that, Donald knew that, and everyone else knew that.

 

“God.” Donald practically threw his head down on the pillow with a thump, forcing himself to close his eyes. “I fucking hate everything.”

 

***

 

“Shit.. shit, fuck, shit, shit..” Jesse hopped on one foot as he frantically tried to tug his left shoe on. His alarm clock wasn't working because, _apparently_ , they have to be plugged in. Honestly, that should have been on the instructions. His old one ran on batteries, but Benji had been trying to get some fucking dove to land on his shoulder and it'd gone rogue, breaking his lamp and his alarm clock.

 

Damn birds.

 

“Benj! Grab my phone, will you? I think I got a message last night but I was half asleep. Didn't listen to it.”

 

“Sure thing!”

 

Jesse snatched it quickly from Benji's hand, managing to get out a quick “Thanks, Benj!” before he shut the door and practically sprinted on his way to auditorium. He actually had to stop when he got to the steps, because okay, the walk wasn't that long but he ran the whole way. He could bench press, not run distance.

 

As he stopped to catch his breath, he remembered the message that he'd gotten on his phone this morning. He didn't even bother to check who it was from. The freshman seated himself on the bottom of the concrete staircase, tugging his phone out of his pocket. “ _New voicemaiiiiil_ . From..” he furrowed his eyebrows. “Donald? What in the actual fuck. Seriously. I don't need this.” He looked up at the cloudy sky that practically screamed thunderstorm. “Can I not get  _one_ day where shit doesn't hit the fan?!”

 

He tapped on the message and brought the phone up to his ear, pursing his lips as he waited for it to start. Jesse rolled his eyes, then rolled them again, and by the fifth time he was starting to get a headache. All he heard was Bumper-this, Bumper-that, Bumper, Bumper, Bumper, Bumper,  _fucking Bumper._ However, his ears perked up when he heard Donald mention something about choosing, which one was right, he wanted to--

 

“ _YAAAASS!!_ YES. YES. FUCKING _YES_!”

 

Jesse shot up off the steps, shoving his phone into his bag. He turned, taking the stairs two at a time as he excitedly darted toward the doors of the auditorium. Yanking the door open, the freshman speed-walked down the slight incline toward the stage where he could see the rest of the Trebles sitting in chairs that seemed to be haphazardly placed in a kind-of circle. “Hola, peoples! How are you today? I'll have you know that my day is as wonderful as a delicious, hot fudge sundae. Which is pretty wonderful.”

 

Hat smiled, leaning backward in the chair and effectively making it raise up onto the back two legs. “Someone's happy today. A one-eighty from last time we saw you, Swanson.”

 

Shrugging, the freshman put his hands in his pockets and started up the stairs to the stage. “What can I say? Today is a lovely day, boys. So lovely, that I wanna take you all out for lunch.”

 

There was an uproar of whoops and hollers of excitement from the Trebles, and Jesse spoke over them.

 

“Too bad I'm broke and there's a bunch of you!”

 

“Fuck you, that's not funny.”

 

Jesse clapped a hand down on Unicycle's shoulders, shaking him back and forth a little. “Uni, my man... normally I'd apologize, but not today. Not today. It's such a good day that I'll ev en thank you. Thanks, man.”

 

“For... For what?” His eyebrows furrowed and his afro bounced as he turned his head.

 

“Just thank you.”

 

“O... kay.”

 

The doors to the auditorium burst open, and all the heads in the room immediately snapped up to where a figure was angrily walking down the ramp.

 

“Warm-ups! Let's go!”

 

Bumper's booming voice echoed throughout the large room, and everyone grudgingly stood from their chairs and circled around each other to begin warm-ups while Bumper sat down in the front row and pulled out his phone.

 

“Where's Donald?” His hands were in the pockets of his zipped up jacket. “Is he coming?”

 

Bumper didn't bother to look up from his phone, choosing instead and turn his lips up into a snarl and raise his eyebrows. “ _Where's Donald, is he coming, meh meh meh,_ ” he mocked in a squeaked voice. “No. He's not coming.”

 

Jesse took his hands from his pockets, fumbled a little with where else to put them, and simply put them back into his pockets again. “Why?”

 

“Because he didn't fuckin' want to. That's why. Why are you so concerned? Huh?” Bumper just shoved his phone into his jeans pocket and stomped up the stairs to the stage. “Everyone get in your lines for the new song! And hurry up! We don't win by standing around!”

 

The freshman opened and closed his mouth a few times, checked the time quickly on his phone, and started up toward the doors. It was only 9:55. Donald would be in the house, right?

 

He pushed open the doors and started outside, and lo-and-behold... it was fucking raining.

 

“And I thought my day was gonna be good.”

 

***

 

“Donald!” _Knock knock knock._ “Donald, please open the door! I know you can hear me, you're the only one in the house!”

 

It took seven minutes, but the door finally opened to a sleepy, fluffy looking Donald with sweatpants, a hoodie, and mussed up hair. “Hey, Jess. You're wet.”

 

Jesse glanced down at his clothes, and yeah. He was soaked. “I... I wasn't really concerned about the rain.”

 

Donald nodded briefly, stepped outside, and shut the door behind him.

 

“You're gonna get wet, too. What are you doing? Don't we're gonna get wet,” Jesse rambled on as Donald pushed him by the chest, backward, closer and closer to the edge of the porch and out from underneath the awning. “Donald! You're getting--!”

 

“Shut up.”

 

And... yeah... Donald's lips tasted exactly like he thought they would. Except not at all. His lips were soft, satin sheets that brushed against freshly washed skin. They were pink and full, so different to Jesse's own. His were thin, they were chapped, but he really didn't care. Not now.

 

Donald's hands were cupping his jaw, Jesse's hands were on the junior's waist, and the rain was slipping down their cheeks and mingling in with their kiss.

 

When their lips parted, Jesse simply murmured, “I got my kiss in the rain,” and was returned with a crooning, smooth voice.

 

“You always ruin the moments, Jess.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic is officially off hiatus! I'll try as hard as I can to get it updated ASAP, but my schedule is still very hectic and full, so we'll see! Review, kudos, tell your friend. Spread the gay.


End file.
